


The Crown in the Stars

by xisuthros



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, I'm not kidding about the tropes, Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Not kidding, POV Clarke, Roommates, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, eventually, like a shit ton of tropes here guys fight me, oh my god they were soulmates, pining!clarke, you guys are in for a doozy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:26:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 43,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21777502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xisuthros/pseuds/xisuthros
Summary: The existence of soulmates stretched back to a time before written records, with nearly every civilization on Earth having some myth or story that explains their origins. No one truly understands how they exist or what the universe does to determine a person’s exact match. All efforts to solve these mysteries have been met with failure, which makes the subject a sore spot for some in the scientific community who cannot readily explain the phenomenon.Nine-year-old Clarke Griffin feels a sort of kinship with these disgruntled intellectuals, peering up to look at her father from behind her cocoon of blankets with a disbelieving glare.“But Dad, that doesn’t make any sense.” She huffed, sending a stray blonde hair flying from where it had previously been tickling her face.- Or, the one where Clarke finds out she has a soulmate. Little does she know its Bellamy Blake. Usual angst ensues. See notes for more.
Relationships: Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane, Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller, Luna/Raven Reyes, Monty Green/Harper McIntyre, Octavia Blake/Lincoln, more relationships as our idiots figure themselves out
Comments: 49
Kudos: 142





	1. Getting the History Down

**Author's Note:**

> Okay kiddos, buckle up! I've always been a slut for a good soulmate!AU, so this will be my humble contribution to one of my favorite tropes. This work has been in development for a while now, and anyone who follows me on Tumblr (shipping-n-handling), knows that I mentioned my barebones outline for this fic being over 3k by itself. So it will be a long one. 
> 
> By the end, I expect to have 100-150k in this work by the end and will be writing every day, though I will likely post every couple of days now that my grad classes are wrapping up. If I'm late, do not worry! I am really excited about this fic and cannot wait to finish it. It's been burning in my brain for weeks now and I'm itching to put it into words. 
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment down below with your thoughts! I always love hearing from you guys :) My notes at the bottom will share some of my plans going forward.

The existence of soulmates stretched back to a time before written records, with nearly every civilization on Earth having some myth or story that explains their origins. No one truly understands how they exist or what the universe does to determine a person’s exact match. All efforts to solve these mysteries have been met with failure, which makes the subject a sore spot for some in the scientific community who cannot readily explain the phenomenon. 

Nine-year-old Clarke Griffin feels a sort of kinship with these disgruntled intellectuals, peering up to look at her father from behind her cocoon of blankets with a disbelieving glare. 

“But Dad, that doesn’t make any sense.” She huffed, sending a stray blonde hair flying from where it had previously been tickling her face. Jake Griffin sat on the side of her bed, looking at her with a bemused expression. The cold winter wind howled against the side of their home while snow continued to fall on the already covered ground outside. The moon hid its light behind the clouds that carried the blizzard, while ice began forming on the outskirts of their windows. 

It was the perfect weather for sleeping, which Clarke had been looking forward to after a long day of playing with her best friend, Wells Jaha. They spent all day in the newly fallen snow, making snowmen and hitting each other with enough snowballs to make Abby Griffin shake her head in exasperation when they finally trudged indoors, completely soaked to the bone and begging for hot chocolate with marshmallows. 

Somewhere in between Clarke stealing her friend’s marshmallows while he wasn’t looking and exchanging early Christmas gifts to each other, Wells had told Clarke in a hushed tone about his newly-formed soulmark that appeared the previous week on his upper arm. Even as a young artist, Clarke had to admit it was beautiful; a surprisingly detailed depiction of a bare oak tree outline in black ink, with only a diamond-shaped spot in the place of a hollow. It looked like a professional sketch artist had drawn the tree on her friend’s arm personally, which instantly made Clarke want to study it as an object lesson in technique. She refrained only when Wells began telling her about what his father explained about soulmates, which left her with more questions than he had answers. 

Wells and his father Thelonious were set to fly to New York City to visit their other relatives for the holiday, but Jake had insisted that Clarke head to bed before he gave them a ride to the airport. This, naturally, left him the unfortunate victim of a barrage of questions once he finished her requested bed-time story, an Eastern mythological tale about the origins of soulmates. It had been an odd request, but Clarke suspected her father knew the soulmate conversation was coming sooner or later, so she was not surprised when he patiently listened to her initial protests of implausibility. 

“Why would the universe even care who ends up with who?” She continued, the blankets creeping up to rest somewhere below her nose and making her words sound slightly muffled. “Mom says the universe is just a bunch of stars and planets rolling around in space. How can something that isn’t even alive know who Wells is supposed to be with?”

Jake chuckled lightly and somehow tucked a stray hair behind her ear in the whirlwind of blankets that held Clarke’s face. “I think you’re overthinking it, sweetheart.” He said kindly, ignoring how his daughter’s brow seemed to furrow under the implication that thinking too hard was the wrong approach. “We still don’t know exactly how soulmates are chosen or even whether the force that’s responsible for them can be explained by science.” 

Clarke snorted, shaking a few hairs loose to fall back onto her face. “But Dad, you’re a super-smart engineer. You and Mom always say that science can explain everything.” 

This earned a weighted sigh from her father, who seemed to look beyond her for a moment. “If only that were true, kiddo. We can explain a lot of things through science, but the reality is that we are only just now beginning to see the universe coherently.” At Clarke’s raised eyebrow, he clarified. “Clearly, I mean. Soulmates are just one of those things that we haven’t yet been able to explain. Not for lack of trying, of course. For now, we make do with the stories passed down to us from older civilizations and cultures. Mythology can teach us a lot about how the ancients viewed the world and their place in it.” He paused, thinking. “One of the best stories I’ve heard about soulmates was the ancient Greek version, actually.”

At this, Clarke became interested. “That’s the one about the four-armed people, right?” Wells had mentioned it offhand, but she wanted to hear her Dad’s version of the story. He always knew the right way to spin a tale. 

Her father nodded. “According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus, the king of the gods on Mount Olympus, began to fear their power when they began to directly challenge them. While some gods wanted to destroy the humans outright for their arrogance in the same manner as the Titans,” He paused, looking at Clarke’s confused expression. “The parents of the gods on Olympus, who they destroyed with lightning.” Her eyes became as wide as dinner plates as she imagined the cosmic struggle. 

“However, Zeus was smart enough to realize that if they just simply destroyed humanity, then they would lose all the offerings that they had grown accustomed to receiving. The other gods agreed that this was an undesirable outcome, so they came up with another solution. To punish mankind, Zeus stretched his hand over the earth and caused the humans to split into two different people, with some being different genders and others being the same. This worked perfectly in the gods’ favor, causing the newly separated humans great pain for their hubris,” He paused again with a smile at Clarke’s huff. “Pride. This also meant that the gods would receive twice the offerings they used to get from humanity, which left most of Mount Olympus happy.”

The smaller Griffin thought the scenario through for a moment. “Most?” She asked. “There were gods who were unhappy?”

Jake nodded, pleased that his daughter caught that. “That’s right. Apollo, the god of music, truth, prophecy, healing and light saw the newly separated humans wandering the earth in pain, with some not caring whether they lived or died without their other half. He felt compassion for them and eased their pain by sewing up their bodily forms, leaving only a belly-button as a reminder of their original shape.” A rumple in the covers indicated Clarke was absently feeling her own belly-button as she listened. “Seeing how humans still longed to be with their other halves but not wishing to further anger Zeus, Apollo gave each of them unique marks on their bodies that would lead them to their other half, the one whose soul completed their own. According to legend, when these two halves would finally meet, each one would feel content and live in perfect peace again, having finally regained the joy that was stolen from them by Zeus.” 

Clarke was silent for a few moments, absorbing the tale. “So what is true, Dad?” She asked quietly, sounding like a regular nine-year old and not one who usually had all the answers.

Jake was careful in choosing his words. “Well,” He began. “We know that not everyone has a soulmate. The myths used to say that everyone did, but we’ve discovered in modern times that the real amount equals to about eight in ten people. We know that each mark is unique, and that they appear on both soulmates once one of them reaches fifteen.” Clarke realized that Wells’ soulmate would be older, then, if he got his soulmark at the age of nine. A small part of Clarke felt sad, since Wells was the best friend she ever had and she could not imagine being soulmates with anyone else. He understood her in a way none of her other friends did, and the thought of another person getting to be his soulmate made her the tiniest bit jealous. 

Her father continued on, oblivious to Clarke’s internal musings. “Most soulmarks are black in color, and can mean either romantic or non-romantic love. But the majority of soulmarks are for romantic love.” He chuckled when Clarke made a scrunchy face at the notion of romance. “Hey! Your mother and I are romantic soulmates, Clarke. Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” At her urging, Jake pulled down the collar of his shirt to reveal a small but detailed depiction of a ring-like space station with several stars surrounding it in black ink. 

Clarke shuffled some blankets around to free her hand so that she could run her small fingers over it. “It’s beautiful, Dad.” She said genuinely.

Her father smiled. “I think so too.” He admitted. “Some people have rare soulmarks that have color in them, which I have yet to see in person. Your mother said one of her childhood friends had one and that it was one of the most beautiful designs she’d ever seen. People with colored soulmarks are supposedly matched with someone that is their perfect match romantically.”

Clarke looked confused. “I thought regular romantic soulmarks already do that.” She said, furrowing her brow.

Jake nodded. “True, but colored soulmarks are supposed to be epic loves, like the kinds you read about in stories. Unlike regular marks, people with colored ones are always destined to be romantic and not just really close friends. There hasn’t been a single documented case in history that didn’t end up that way that I’ve heard of.” He paused, as if unsure of whether to continue. “Soulmates aren’t perfect, though. There have been cases where they don’t work out, or when people leave their current partners for someone that they believe are matched with romantically. People without soulmates date and marry people out of choice rather than a sense of destiny. Sometimes, people with soulmarks choose to ignore it and end up with someone that doesn’t have one or has a different design. Your soulmate is supposed to be your perfect match, but some people prefer to have the choice be up to them rather than the universe.” 

Clarke considered this for a moment. “I think I agree with that.” She said slowly. At her father’s unreadable expression, she quickly asked. “Is that okay?”

Jake’s face morphed into a reassuring smile. “Of course, sweetheart. Who you end up with, if you even want to end up with anyone, is your choice. Never forget that.” He paused. “But speaking as someone with a soulmate, I can tell you its an experience unlike anything I’ve ever known. And it gave me you.” He emphasized by tickling Clarke in her pile of blankets, which caused her to giggle. “Just don’t swear away the idea of your soulmate before you even meet them.” 

After regaining her breath, Clarke had a sudden thought. “What if I don’t have one, Dad?” She asked worriedly. It was a far cry from the beginning of the conversation, where she was skeptical of soulmates. Now that she heard her father explain it, she saw a bit of his wonder and felt worried she might miss out on it. “You said almost everyone has one.” 

The elder Griffin poked one of her cheeks good-naturedly. “Don’t worry, kiddo. Even if you don’t have one, you can find happiness anywhere you go if you look for it. I know several couples who are very happy that aren’t soulmates. And anyone out there would be lucky to have you.” He leaned forward and placed a small kiss on her nose, making Clarke smile and crinkle her nose. 

Jake turned off the lamp on her bedside table and lifted himself off the side of the bed, walking towards the door that cast a shadow of light across the bedroom. He paused at the edge of the doorframe, looking back at an already-sleepy Clarke. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” He said softly. “I love you.”

Clarke yawned, snuggling deeper into her blankets. “’Night, Dad. Love you too.” She fixed him with a look as a thought suddenly occurred to her. “Say goodbye to Wells and Mr. Jaha for me,” She said. “And tell my best friend that if he doesn’t send me pictures when he’s in New York City, I’ll never let him win at chess again.”  
Jake laughed at that, shaking his head fondly as he closed the door. “Will do, kiddo. You’re shaping up to be more like your mother every day.” That earned a muffled chuckle from somewhere in the Clarke-sized bundle on the bed. 

__________________________________________________________________________

If the universe was a conscious entity, Clarke decided it hated her when she woke up the next morning to the sound of her mother crying from the living room. 

She quickly rose from her bed, untangling the blankets from her limbs, and rushed downstairs to see what was the matter. The flash of red and blue lights echoed from behind the blinds of her living room window and two sympathetic police officers were attempting to console a distraught Abby Griffin as she knelt on the floor with her face in her hands. 

Clarke paused at the edge of the living room, her heart sinking in her chest and the feeling that something was terribly, unbelievably wrong rising up within her like a geyser. One of the police officers noticed her standing there and quickly motioned to the other, who managed to get her mother into one of the chairs that lined the coffee table. Abby still hadn’t noticed Clarke standing there, still crying and shaking too much to see properly. Cautiously, one of the police officers stepped forward towards Clarke and introduced himself as Sergeant Miller, asking if she would like to speak with him in the kitchen. 

Clarke never took her eyes off her mother, who was holding onto the hand of the other police officer like it was a lifeline. Slowly, she shook her head. “I’m not leaving her.” Clarke’s voice was surprisingly clear despite the storm that was brewing in her chest. 

Sergeant Miller took a long look between her and Abby before apparently deciding it was more important to keep Clarke happy and within eyesight of her mother. “Clarke,” He began softly, his eyes trying to catch hers before the younger Griffin finally relented and saw that he seemed genuinely remorseful about something. “Clarke, something happened to your father.” 

The world seemed to tilt on its axis after those words left his mouth. Clarke had watched enough movies and tv shows with Wells to know that nothing after those words could possibly be good. She listened in stunned shock as the officer explained that after Jake Griffin had dropped of Wells and Mr. Jaha at the airport and was returning home, his car had slipped on some black ice while crossing a bridge. Coupled with the speed and the slight wear on the tires, the resulting efforts of Jake to course-correct had sent the vehicle careening over the railing and into the ravine forty feet below. The elder Griffin had been killed instantly on impact, and they were currently working to remove the car from the ravine. His body had been sent to the local hospital, where Abby worked as the head doctor. 

Clarke absorbed the words, but couldn’t find it within herself to feel anything immediately. It couldn’t be real, she thought. He was just here. Shock was sparing her from the full weight of the information from taking the wind out of her, but she knew that it was likely to hit soon and determined exactly where she wanted to be when it did. Wordlessly, she shuffled past the Sergeant Miller and stood in front of her mother, who was still crying. Though her cries were initially heard from across the house, Abby’s sobs were now soundless, like she had given all the tears her body could produce. Finally, her mother noticed Clarke standing there with wide eyes and a trembling bottom lip. Seconds passed where neither one moved, mother looking at daughter with the sudden realization that someone they loved was never coming home again.

Like a wave that crashes on the beach, both Griffins surged forward with a cry and enveloped the other in a desperate embrace. Tears began forming in Clarke’s eyes the moment her mother wrapped her arms around her and, before long, she was sobbing just as loudly as her mother had a few moments prior. Her father’s comments on soulmates jumped forward in Clarke’s mind suddenly and she realized that her mother must be feeling not only the loss of her husband but the loss of her soulmate. Her arms tightened around Abby, as if she could squeeze the grief out of her. 

As Clarke continued to hold her mother, she noticed a now-familiar pattern on the back of her neck that was only visible due to her hair being up in a bun. Usually, Abby Griffin kept her hair down except when she was at work, but Clarke rarely got to see her like that and always said she looked prettier with it down. The police officers had obviously caught her early in the morning, with the now-visible soulmark design that she saw the previous night on her father’s chest flowing on the skin closest to her hair. A circular space station with several stars surrounding it. 

Though Clarke could not be sure, but it seemed like the black ink was dimmer than her father’s, as if it were written in pen and someone had attempted to scrub it off. 

The realization made her stomach sick, causing her tears to intensify and her grip on Abby Griffin to grow tighter. 

If fate or the universe determined soulmates, how could it be so cruel as to separate two halves that had found each other? 

Clarke, in that moment, wished desperately that she never received a soulmark in the future. Not only would it be a painful reminder to her mother about what she lost, but it would mean she herself would be just as vulnerable.

Screw the universe, Clarke mumbled into her mother’s hair. If this is what true love looked like when it ended, she wanted no part of it.


	2. The Slow March of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and her mother deal with the fallout of the accident. Also, Clarke finds out that the universe has a sick sense of humor. Wells is there to act as the voice of the reason. Jinxes may ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a forewarning for people that have a tough time with grief and heavy angst, this chapter and the one following it will be a little rough. I didn't want to dress up any of Clarke's family issues and instead chose to study how the impact of her father's death would reverberate outward. For this reason, I went through several drafts of the initial few pages to find the right tone. I know the descriptions are a little much right now, but I promise the dialogue will pick up as we get through Clarke's childhood and meet some familiar faces. 
> 
> See my notes at the end of the work to learn a bit more about my writing process and inspiration for this chapter and potential spoilers for the next one!

Clarke decided that if God existed, he was a cruel and manipulative bastard. 

Chaos reigned in the weeks following Jake Griffin’s death, with countless individuals milling in and out of their home as if they had a revolving front door. Several of her father’s co-workers stopped by to offer their condolences, since his designs and input were directly responsible for some of the city’s most basic infrastructure. Clarke learned that he had been well-liked at the company and heard enthusiastic stories from his friends that highlighted Jake Griffin’s efforts to improve the world around him. With every anecdote, her heart felt a little heavier as she played them out in her head.

Family lawyers were among those that came to their house, all seven of whom Clarke grew to hate. She didn’t know how many similar visits they had to do each day, but it seemed to her that they had grown cold about the concept of death. Most of them barely recognized what had happened, much less offer any condolences, before immediately jumping into their business. Even her mother, who was remaining oddly still about the accident since it happened, would sometimes flinch out of the corner of Clarke’s eye when the lawyers would speak. It took all of her self-restraint to not bolt the door whenever she saw their cars outside. 

Wells and his father didn’t hear the news until they returned from their Christmas holiday. Thelonious Jaha had confiscated their electronic devices before the trip so that they would all spend more time together as a family, though this came at the cost of being out of the loop for any emergencies back home. Clarke would later find out that they had barely returned from the airport when they checked their devices, learned what happened, and immediately dropped everything to check on them. 

With all the visitors in the house during the immediate aftermath of the accident, she was caught completely off guard when Wells suddenly appeared out of nowhere to wrap his arms around her. 

“Wha-“ She managed squeak before he made impact, cutting off the rest of her sentence. Behind her, she could tell Mr. Jaha had found her mother amongst a group of other family friends that had stopped by earlier. 

Wells pulled away after a few moments, and Clarke immediately missed the comfort. They ended up sitting side by side on the couch in the living room while the adults talked in the kitchen. Her best friend didn’t speak and didn’t offer any of the condolences that others had been giving her the past week. Somehow, he seemed to understand that the words had already lost the weight that Clarke knew was supposed to be comforting. Instead, Wells found the remote to the television and clicked on the Boomerang channel, which was showing some old slapstick cartoons that they both loved to watch during sleepovers. 

After a few moments, Clarke felt a weight on her knee and looked down to see her best friend offering his hand silently. She took it without hesitation, clinging to it like a lifeline in a storm. Her head soon found his shoulder as they sat there watching television. Though the morning of the accident had generated a few tears from Clarke and her mother, shock made it difficult to cry in the days that immediately followed. The burden of her new reality seemed to settle in as she tightened her grip on Wells’ hand. 

Clarke didn’t know she was crying until she shifted her head on his shoulder and felt the wet fabric on her cheek. Her best friend didn’t acknowledge the mess she was making of his shirt, but simply wrapped his spare arm around her shoulder. No words could express the gratitude she felt for Wells in that moment, somehow knowing subconsciously that they would be friends for life. Clarke knew that they would talk about her father eventually, but she could already feel the pieces of her heart inch their way back towards each other. 

For the first time since the accident, she felt hope that things would be alright.

___________________________________________________________________________

She was so, so wrong. 

The funeral was a tidy affair, with several dozen of the Griffin family’s nearest relatives and closest friends attending. Wells held one of her hands while Abby clenched the other, watching as the casket slowly lowered her father’s body to its final resting place. People began dispersing shortly afterward, though Clarke and her mother stayed to pay their final respects without the eyes of everyone on them. She knew that Wells and his father waited a few dozen yards away, but the moment seemed to be reserved for only the two Griffin women as they rested their eyes on the simple headstone. 

Jake Griffin (1964-2005). Loving husband. Devoted father. Cherished friend. 

Clarke bit the inside of her mouth as she read the words. It didn’t feel right to boil down her father’s entire existence into six words. There was so much more to him, to the life he led, and to the way he touched the lives of others. By the way her mother was standing unnaturally still next to her, Clarke could tell that she was not alone in thinking it. Abby stiffly stepped forward to place a bouquet of gladiolus flowers on the ground, her hands shaking. Clarke remembered her father saying once that they were his favorite kind, rambling animatedly about how they stood for “sword” in Latin and that they were so often underappreciated amongst flowers. Despite herself, a small smile formed on her lips as she played the memory in her mind. 

It quickly faded when her mother turned around and Clarke saw the expression on her face as she returned. Abby Griffin looked empty. Even though she appeared appropriately sad following the accident, she was still able to care for Clarke, deal with the various legal hurdles of her husband’s death, and host various people at the house. Now, it was as if the carefully constructed mask placed over her face fell away and the defeated expression written there was almost too much for Clarke to process. Almost mechanically, Abby made her way back to stand with her, oblivious to the mix of empathy and dread that filled Clarke’s heart. 

Logically, she supposed it made sense. Losing a soulmate was like losing a part of yourself, since they were supposed to be two halves of the same whole. Clarke knew that she was still very young and that the true significance of such a loss was not fully understandable to her, but she still wanted to help her mother.

Tentatively, she reached to take Abby’s hand in her own and released a small breath of relief when she reciprocated. Maybe the adults were right, and that time would be enough to begin healing their respective wounds. 

Together, the two Griffin women walked away from the tombstone and joined the Jahas by the vehicles. Overhead, the skies began to darken as the promise of rain rolled from the horizon. 

Clarke realized later that she should have taken it as a sign.

________________________________________________________________

It turned out that the emptiness that Clarke witnessed in her mother’s face that day at the cemetery would not go quietly. 

Several months afterwards, she began to notice that her mother would stay later and later at work, claiming that she picked up a few extra hours to help a friend. From there, it evolved to sleeping at the hospital so that she could “catch up on work”. Eventually, Clarke only saw her mother for a few minutes in the morning before school and during odd hours of the night when she would return from work. Each time she appeared more harried and less put together, barely even caring to look over Clarke’s performance at school or whether meal plans were established.

With a jolt, she realized that it wasn’t just the house full of pictures and memories that Abby was steering away from. It was Clarke herself, the literal physical manifestation of her marriage to Jake Griffin that she tried to avoid. The knowledge hurt, but it stung even more so when she realized that her mother was probably not even aware she was doing it, being so caught up in her own grief to care about the world around her. 

In a way, Clarke understood the rationale behind her avoidance. But every attempt to get her mother to talk or to spend time with her ended either ended in a sudden available shift at the hospital or irritable mutterings about the importance of personal space. By the time her tenth birthday was around the corner, Clarke began to feel like she was mourning not just her father, but the memory of who her mother used to be.

She mistakenly voiced some of these concerns to Wells, who knew that her mother was busier than usual but had no idea that things were that bad. Clarke had been careful to keep some things from her best friend; he tended to worry too much and the last thing she needed was him or Mr. Jaha to get involved in her family drama. After making him pinky swear to not tell anyone, Clarke told him about her mother’s late work schedule and how she’s been practically living alone for the past couple months. 

They were playing in the woods surrounding the Jaha family manor, which owned land for hundreds of acres into the mountains that surrounded the town. Several well-travelled trails extended from the backyard and into the mountains that Clarke and Wells knew by heart, having stolen a map of the area from Mr. Jaha’s study. Their only limitation was that they had to be back in the house by sundown, which let them have ample time to run around and explore the system of caves that existed nearly a mile into the forest. 

Wells looked at her with an unreadable expression as she finished telling him about her mother’s absence the previous night. Abby had come home looking like death warmed over and waved off Clarke’s attempts to help her. The revelation that his best friend had been living in this situation for months seemed to bug Wells. 

“Clarke,” He said, appearing to choose his words carefully. “You know that none of this is okay, right?” 

She turned away from his gaze and poked at a fuzzy caterpillar on a log that attempted to escape her curious prodding. “It’s fine, Wells.” She said, managing to keep a level tone. “Mom’s going through a lot right now. I made it seem like more of a big deal than it is.” Clarke winced at her obvious deflection. 

Her best friend wasn’t buying it any more than she was. “I don’t think so, Clarke. I know she’s your mom, but you’re – we’re,” He added quickly to her raised eyebrow. “Still kids. You shouldn’t have to do this on your own.” 

Clarke’s heart warmed for her friend. “I’m not alone, doofus. I’ve got you.” She teased, picking up the fuzzy caterpillar and placing it on his shoulder. He yelped and frantically began swiping at his clothes until he was sure the bug was gone, eliciting a fit of giggles from Clarke as she watched the whole thing. 

“That’s-“ He stopped to bend over from exertion and relief, glaring at her continued laughter. “Not funny, Clarke. Caterpillars with hair are evil.”

“Evil?” She snorted. “They have highlights in their hair that can tell how bad a winter we’re going to have. That’s not evil, that’s awesome.” Behind her in the distance, a bird chirped to punctuate her sentence. 

Wells glared at the distant bird mutinously. “Whatever.” He said with a wave of his hand. “I mean it, Clarke. Have you tried talking to her?”

“Of course I have.” She replied. “But she’s my mom. It’s not like I can ground her or anything if she doesn’t want to come home. Besides, she’s doing a lot of good at her job, from what I can tell, and it seems to keep her mind off dad. I know she loves me, but things are just hard right now. It’ll get better, you’ll see.” To her right, Wells sighed.

“I don’t know.” He said slowly. “Maybe I should come over more, or you can have more sleepovers here. You shouldn’t be alone.” 

“I’m fine, Wells.” Clarke said, finally turning to look at him to drive home her words. “Really. Stop worrying so much. Mom and I will work it – ow!” She grasped at her forearm as a sudden searing pain rushed through her, nearly making her vision spotty. It felt like someone had pushed a white-hot brand to her side and held it there.

Wells was by her side in an instant, guiding her to a nearby log to sit down as she rocked and continued to hiss through her teeth. “Clarke?” His voice was worried. “Clarke, are you okay? What’s happening?”

After several moments, the pain subsided and she was able to see clearly again. Blowing out a breath, Clarke waved off her concerned best friend, who was hilariously trying to feel her forehead and check her pulse, two tricks that Abby had taught them when they were pretending to be doctors one day last summer. 

“I’m fine, Wells. Relax.” She said, though she was surprised to find her voice was slightly strained. 

“Uh-huh.” He replied, nodding towards her hand that still grasped a spot on her right hip bone. “No offense, but I’m not trusting your sense of ‘fine’ right now. Let me see.”

Clarke sighed and carefully lifted the hem of her shirt and lowered the band on her shorts so that her hip was exposed, causing both of them to suck in a breath of surprise when they got a proper look. In that moment, the axis of Clarke’s entire world shifted and she could feel the eyes of her best friend on her like she was suddenly a rare exhibit at a museum. 

A mark was now visible on her right hip, just below the waistline and was about four square inches in size. It was mildly circular in design, with a crimson-red bird curving downwards and its wings morphing into dark blue and green flowers. The flowers grew smaller and smaller as they looped back around to the bird’s beak, completing the circle. The colors seemed to almost vibrate with an otherworldly energy, as if she stared long enough the bird would suddenly jump into movement. 

_It’s beautiful_ , Clarke thought as she absently ran her fingers across it. A slight shiver swept through her body as she did so, as if it knew that the mark was a herald of things to come. It was that thought that brought her crashing back to reality, quickly covering the mark against the protests of Wells, who seemed like he had been in a similar state of shock. 

“Clarke, that’s-“ He stopped, running a hand over his head as the weight of the revelation seemed to hit him. “That’s your soulmark. You have a soulmate.” The words did not have the desired effect on Clarke, who promptly crossed her arms. 

“So what?” She said, glaring at him as if daring him to press the issue.

Wells was her best friend for a reason; he knew all of her tells. To his credit, he did not act as if her glowering was anything other than the deflection it was. “So,” He said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “This is good news! Your perfect match is out there somewhere! And since yours has color in it,” He added with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “We know you’re going to like them. Like, _like_ like them.” 

Clarke huffed a piece of blonde hair that fell into her eyes. “No, I won’t. Because I don’t want a soulmark.”

Wells looked at her like she had just grown a second head. “Why not? They’re literally the person you’re destined to be with. You know, your perfect other half?” He tilted his head in confusion. “Why wouldn’t you want that?”

She looked at him like he was an idiot. “First of all, I don’t want the universe telling me who I can and can’t be with. That’s my decision, not some cosmic process that decides to link me with some random person that could be half a world away.” She paused and raised a finger to silence Wells as he attempted to retort. 

“Secondly, once I realized that you got your soulmark before me, when you weren’t even fifteen years old, I knew that you and I weren’t going to be soulmates. Not that I think of you like that,” She added quickly, to Well’s scrunched up face. He was her best friend and only that; Clarke could not imagine a future or a universe that they fell in love. She was grateful that he seemed to feel the same way. “My dad said that not all soulmates are romantic, so I guess I figured if there was anyone that I would be bonded to, it would be my best friend. We know everything about each other. The universe choosing to not bond us pretty much means the system is broken.” Wells made a face, as if he wanted to disagree with her last statement. 

“Lastly,” Clarke continued, taking a breath. “Look at my family. Look at what being with a soulmate does to people when one of them dies.” Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes. “I don’t want to be like that.” Wells reached out and pulled her into a hug in response, having apparently not found the right words.

They stayed like that for several moments before Clarke began to laugh into his shoulder. “Besides, my soulmate is fifteen if I’m just getting this now.” She made a blanching noise. “They’ll be graduating high school when I’m still in eighth grade. They’ll probably want nothing to do with me. And they’ll be old.” This earned a chuckle from her best friend, who pulled apart and looked at her.

“Yeah, that’s the most important thing.” He deadpanned. “Look Clarke, I get that you have good reasons for not getting on board with the soulmate thing. And a part of me really wishes you were my soulmate, in a non-romantic way.” He added, to her good-natured laugh. “But I think you’re not really giving this a chance before you understand what it is. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet them in the future and change your mind?”

Clarke made a face. “Following that logic, if my soulmate is my perfect match then maybe they don’t want a soulmate either. Besides, do you know how many people there are in the world? I’d probably have a better chance of being struck by lightning than running into them.”

Wells placed his hands on his hips, raising an eyebrow “I don’t know. I haven’t heard of a single colored soulmark that didn’t work out.”

She guffawed. “There’s a first time for everything. And with my luck, it might as well be me.” At her best friend’s continued exasperated expression, Clarke sighed. “Can we not talk about this anymore? I’m not even going to tell my mom about it and no,” She added over his protests. “I will not change my mind on that. She’s going through enough without having to deal with a daughter that has a soulmark just months after she lost her own soulmate.” That statement sobered up Wells, who nodded slowly. 

“Fine.” He said after several moments. “I won’t tell anyone. But I hope you change your mind someday. I just want you to be happy, Clarke.”

That earned him a hug. “Thanks, Wells.” She said sincerely. “I will be someday, I promise.” The two of them stayed that way until Clarke found another furry caterpillar on the tree behind him and placed it on his head, laughing uncontrollably as he attempted to get it off him. 

As they continued to explore the forest that day, she felt a rebellious side of her mind continue to ponder the newly formed mark on her skin. Clarke remembered how her parents had loved each other and felt a small surge of longing for that kind of connection. Perhaps it would be nice to be loved like that, to be cherished in a way that only a person’s perfect other half could be. She quickly stamped those thoughts into the dark corners of her mind, not willing to give them any more life. What she said to Wells was true; she intended to keep the universe and its inane machinations out of her love life’s decision-making process. 

The universe had already stolen her father. Clarke did not intend for it to steal her free will along with him. 

The mark on her skin tingled slightly at her newfound sense of resolve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter does not fuck around. I am genuinely sorry if any of you are crying by the end of this, because I myself had to stop several times while writing. This chapter and the one following it deal with how a person's death can have an impact on those around them and the various ways people cope. I promise there will be more fluff and humor as we go on, but I wanted to properly address these issues.
> 
> The part where Wells and Clarke sit on the couch and hold hands without saying a word was taken out of my real-life childhood. Full disclosure, my mom died when I was twelve and basically left me to take care of my depressed dad and little brother. When we found out, my brother just hopped up on the couch, clicked on Tom and Jerry (our favorite), and offered me his hand to hold without saying a word. It seems like such a small thing, but it meant the world to me at the time and I tried to articulate that when writing the scene. I tried other dialogue-heavy versions, but it just didn't feel right to me. As we go on, I promise we'll get more dialogue and less descriptive paragraphs. 
> 
> Oh, on Clarke's soul mark. It has a very distinctive meaning that will be explained in a later chapter. And we might be getting a glimpse of a certain someone in the near future. Maybe. Possibly. Heh-heh.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! I hope to have the next chapter up in a few days, hopefully tomorrow but we'll see how it goes. I'm trying to not set firm dates on these chapters to it doesn't feel like a school paper deadline.


	3. Walking Off The Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The problems at home come to a head. Wells has some concerns. Clarke has a diabolical plan. A chance encounter has potential ramifications for the distant future. Basically, another incremental step in this slow burn, mwahaha.
> 
> See the notes for my usual musings. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, fandom! This really long chapter is my gift to you this holiday season! Strong eggnog is suggested. 
> 
> This one is a little rough like the last one (you were warned!), but I promise there is a reason for all this pain. There is also a familiar face introduced at the end that I think will play an important role in the future. ;) I am excited to widen the lenses a little bit in the next chapter and focus on introducing some other familiar characters! Thanks for reading!

Clarke did not know whether to be relieved or saddened by how easy it was to keep things from her mother. 

In the months after Clarke’s tenth birthday, Abby Griffin seemed to barely notice that she had a daughter at all, much less that she was hiding something as big as the existence of her soulmark. Though she would never admit it to Wells’ face after that day in the woods, Clarke began to genuinely worry about her mother as it slowly felt like she was coming apart at the seams. By the time Clarke turned eleven, it felt like she had lived the majority of the last six months on her own. 

People stopped coming by the house as Abby was always at work and Clarke wanted to avoid any questions from her friends’ parents about why she always seemed to be away. Even though Wells would occasionally stop by to check on her, they agreed that it was far easier to hang out at the Jaha household where they could help each other with homework and continue exploring the woods. 

Eventually, they worked out a system where Clarke would come over every third day to avoid arousing suspicion. She’d get off the school bus with Wells and would leave their house shortly before Wells had to go to bed, lying that someone would be around the corner to pick her up. In reality, she would walk a small distance around the corner to the nearest bus stop and usually timed it so that she didn’t have to spend too long waiting alone. Every few days, she would sneak downstairs in the middle of the night to take a few bucks out of her mother’s purse to pay for the fares. If Abby noticed the missing money, she never mentioned it during her infrequent appearances. She never told Wells that she took the bus home, knowing he would worry too much about her. 

Her mother liked to automate much of the daily maintenance of the house, so Clarke never had to worry about things like cleaning the house or mowing the lawn. Groceries were ordered online and delivered on their at regular intervals after school, so Clarke made sure that she was home during those days to move everything in to the kitchen. Despite her best efforts, Clarke only got marginally better at cooking as the months wore on. After several fire alarm scares and an irritated phone call from her mother about how the fire department contacted her, she decided to stick with simple meals that did not require too much effort. 

Wells commented on the contents of her refrigerator one afternoon as they attempted to decipher their math homework. Clarke had managed to convince Thelonious Jaha that Abby was going to come home a few hours later so that Wells would stay with her a bit longer. It was becoming harder and harder to wait the two days in between her visits to the Jaha house, and Clarke was glad to not be alone for a change. 

“You’re going to turn into a noodle if you keep eating only macaroni and cheese, Clarke.” Wells said, examining the cupboard critically. 

She huffed and threw an uncooked macaroni noodle in his direction. “You’re just jealous,” Clarke teased. “I get to eat pizza while your dad forces you to eat lima beans.” This made him grimace, as if the memory physically sickened him. 

“Ugh.” He shuddered. “Don’t remind me. I keep telling him that they taste gross, but do you know what he says to me?” Wells gathered himself and spoke in his best Thelonious voice. “Eat your vegetables, son. Eating healthy builds character.” They both erupted into a fit of laughter. Despite his kind tendencies, Mr. Jaha could be rather stoic by default. 

“Builds character?” Clarke echoed when she regained her breath. “What is he, the dad from Calvin and Hobbes?” That earned her another laugh from Wells. 

“Honestly, I think he takes his cues from there sometimes.” He said, chuckling. Pausing, her best friend looked around at the kitchen, which was in various states of disarray from Clarke attempting to find where she hid the strainer during their last cooking adventure. “For real though, Clarke.” He said seriously. “Eat a vegetable. Live a little.”

She threw a disparaging look over her shoulder as the pot full of water finally began to boil. Despite her lack of culinary skills, Clarke liked to believe that she had perfected the art of making macaroni and cheese. The trick, ironically, was to follow the directions on the box exactly. Introducing the butter immediately once the noodles were cooked and strained allowed for the proper consistency after the milk and cheese were mixed in. Wells always managed to cook them too much or too little, which made the noodles ‘unworthy of the cheese’, as Clarke liked to dramatically put it. 

“I’m perfectly capable of living the way I have been, thank you very much.” She argued, using the wooden spoon to stir the noodles and keeping an eye on the clock. 

A stretch of silence made Clarke turn to look at her friend, who was gazing at her almost pityingly. “What?” She asked, a little sharply.

To his credit, Wells did not back off like he normally did when getting at the heart of her living situation. She could tell he had probably rehearsed a speech beforehand, a fact that both endeared him and irritated her. 

“Clarke, you know that I care about you.” He said carefully. “My dad cares about you, too. You’ve been coming over to our house so much, he joked the other day he might have to start claiming you on his taxes.” Despite where she knew the conversation was going, Clarke felt her lips tug upward as she imagined Mr. Jaha saying that. “But Dad’s starting to get suspicious. He ran into your mom the other day, you know.” At this, Clarke stopped stirring.

A beat. “Really?” She managed to sound casual, a skill which was likely attributed to the near constant stream of lies she’s had to tell to cover for her mom’s absence. She supposed it made sense that Thelonious Jaha would run into her mom occasionally, since his counseling practice offered their services to the hospital’s patients upon request. However, he was normally busy at the main office coordinating events, which made his interaction with Abby Griffin a little unusual. “What happened?”

“Apparently, he was called in for a special case and wanted to catch up with your mom because he hadn’t seen her in a while. He said she looked tired, like she hadn’t slept in days. He was worried and asked around the nursing staff.” Wells said, and her heart skipped a beat. Truth be told, Clarke hadn’t seen her mother in almost three full days and was starting to wonder if she was sleeping at the hospital again. “Apparently, she almost killed one of her patients when she mistakenly gave him medicine that he explicitly stated he was allergic to. Thankfully, the nurses caught it.” He added quickly to Clarke’s concerned face. “But he dug a little deeper and found out stuff like that has been happening for months and that she’s spent nearly every waking out at the hospital. The nursing staff has been covering for her, but a few of them told my dad that they’re worried about her,” He paused. “And you.”

Clarke paused, digesting the information. “What did _you_ tell him?” She asked, already guessing the answer.

Wells had the decency to look apologetic. “He asked if I knew anything about what you’ve been going through. I didn’t tell him everything,” He said quickly, before she could speak. “I just said you’ve been missing your mom at home and that she’s been a little distant since your dad died.” 

The laughter that suddenly erupted from Clarke was bitter and cut across her chest like it was made of glass. All of a sudden, she didn’t feel like pretending. It was tiring to always be pretending, and she drew comfort knowing that Wells wouldn’t bolt like some of her other peers would. “A little distant?” She repeated back incredulously. “The moon is a little distant, Wells. My mom has been freaking non-existent for over a year.”

The kitchen was silent as she realized the noodles were done and carefully removed the pot from the stove, straining the water and swiftly adding the butter. As Clarke measured the milk and Wells wordlessly handed her the cheese packet, she continued in a small voice. “I thought it would be a phase. Like she would be a little quiet for a bit and then things would go back to normal once she realized we needed each other.” Another bitter laugh escaped her. “That fantasy ended after three months.” 

She bit her lip, not sure whether to share the next bit of information. At his weary sigh, Clarke decided to not hold anything back. “I found wine bottles in her room, Wells.” At that, her best friend’s head whipped up to look at her. “A lot of them. I think she’s using drugs, too.” 

“Drugs?” He repeated incredulously. “How do you know?” 

She shrugged like it wasn’t a complex issue. “Empty pill containers with the wine bottles. I think she assumes the maid still cleans the house; she doesn’t know I’ve been doing most of the housework out of boredom. If she did, I doubt she’d have them out in the open like that where I could find them.” 

Wells looked at her like she told him she lived with a giant tarantula. “Clarke, this isn’t good. Please tell me you realize that.”

“Of course I do, Wells!” She exclaimed. “I’ve tried talking to her about it, but she doesn’t want to stay in the same room as me for more than a few minutes, much less talk about that. I think I remind her too much of dad.” At this, tears begin forming in her vision. She blinks them away before they have the opportunity to grow further. 

There was a brief time after her soulmark appeared that Clarke would look at it and imagine what it would be like to have what her parents did. Her soulmate was supposed to be the perfect match for her in every way, a person that would complement her every flaw just as she would complement theirs. With a colored soulmark, it opened up the romance avenue, and Clarke would be lying if she hadn’t briefly fantasized about settling down with her faceless soulmate in the distant future and gaining the semblance of happiness that had been evading her recently.

Then she was ripped back to reality, where her dad was dead, her mother avoided her like the plague, and she was reminded every time she was with her best friend’s family that she’d never be the same again. Abstractly, Clarke knew that others in the world likely had it much tougher than she did, especially considering the Griffin family’s financial prosperity. But it still stung that he mother turned to booze and pills before she let anyone in, even her only daughter. 

“Clarke,” Wells said gently, coming over to wrap and arm over her shoulder. “You need to tell someone. And adult, I mean. They might be able to get your mother into some therapy group or something. It’s not much, but it could be a first step in the right direction. I know my dad would be happy to recommend someone.” 

Despite the logic of his offer, Clarke found herself shaking her head. “No. I just need to try harder to reach her.” A beat. “I know that sounds pathetic, but I mean it.” Clarke peeked up at him to see the exact look she imagined on his face. 

“Clarke…” He began, but she cut him off.

“No, Wells. I’m serious.” She said, more forcefully and extracting herself from his grip. “If the hospital finds out about any of this, she’ll get in trouble. Maybe even lose her license.” Over the past few weeks, Clarke had been researching the subject online and read that doctors who are addicts can be subjected to harsh penalties if caught or can lose their jobs if their mental state is called into question. 

She looked at him suddenly, a thought occurring to her. “Promise me you won’t tell your dad.” 

Wells furrowed his brows. “You’re joking, right?” He asked. “Clarke, putting aside what she could do to you while drunk or high, what she has been doing to you by leaving you in this glorified prison,” He added. “People could get seriously hurt if she slips up at the hospital and no one is there to cover for her.” 

Clarke knew this, but still stubbornly clung on to the hope that she could reach her mother before it was too late. Abby Griffin may have abandoned and neglected her over the past year, but she was still family. She knew that deep down, her mother loved her. It was just buried under layers of pain and heartache from losing her husband and soulmate. Eventually, she would see what she was doing was harmful not only to her own health but to those around her.

“Wells.” Clarke pleaded hoarsely, barely trusting her voice to not shake. “Please. I know it’s a risk, but I have to try.” A moment. “She’s my mom,” She said, as if the statement was enough to explain the flurry of conflicting thoughts in her head. 

Her best friend stood with his hands on the counter, his jaw working as he came to a decision. “Fine,” He said with clear disdain for the outcome. “My dad wanted me to ask you what’s been going on. I’ll tell him things are just stressful for now and that she just needs sleep. But I swear if someone dies on her watch, Clarke-” He didn’t finish his thought, but she knew what he meant. 

Clarke was already working on a plan to confront her mother as she walked over to hug him tightly. “Thanks, Wells.” She said into his shoulder. “Not just for this. For caring, too.” He hugged her back in response, and they stayed that way for a while before she felt him nodding towards the pot of macaroni and cheese. 

“Yeah well, do you care enough to let me have dibs?” He asked, longingly. Despite his earlier protests, Wells had a weakness for her version of macaroni and cheese. 

Clarke let him go and slid a bowl over to his eager hands. “I guess so.” She conceded with a dramatic sigh. “You drive a hard bargain.”

Though the rest of the evening went by relatively peacefully, with even Thelonious Jaha showing up to pick up his son with no further questions about the whereabouts of her mother, Clarke could feel the weight of the situation settle on her. She wondered when the burden of responsibility had gone from Abby Griffin to her twelve year-old daughter.

______________________________________________________ 

That night, Clarke laid asleep in bed and heard the familiar sounds of her mother coming home from the hospital. Immediately waking up and knowing that she may not have another opportunity for several days, she swiftly got out of bed and padded her way downstairs towards the kitchen. As she suspected, Abby was rummaging through the refrigerator and quickly looked up when she heard Clarke enter the room. Her hand clasped a half-finished wine bottle that usually sat in the middle door shelf. 

Thelonious Jaha was right; she looked exhausted. She was much thinner than normal, with large bags under her eyes and skin that seemed to glimmer in the moonlight through the window. Her hair looked unkempt, like she hadn’t bothered to do her usual styling that morning and even from across the room Clarke could see that her free hand was shaking as it hung by her side. 

“Clarke!” Abby exclaimed, closing the refrigerator door rather quickly. “What are you doing up? Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“It’s spring break, Mom.” She answered carefully. “Besides, tomorrow’s Saturday.”

Her mother winced slightly at her lack of insight into Clarke’s life, but continued on as if the fact could be hidden by changing the subject. “Still, you shouldn’t be up this late. You’ll throw off your biological clock.” 

“I’m not really worried about that, Mom.” Clarke answered, folding her arms and attempting to look as serious as she could in her pajamas. “I’m more worried about you.”

The statement hung in the air for a moment. Despite her current state, Clarke knew that her mother caught her true meaning. Abby Griffin may be appear to be a disheveled husk of her former self, but she was by no means unintelligent. Her mother seemed to still for a moment and then walked over to the kitchen cabinets to grab a wine glass from the shelf. As she poured, Clarke noticed that her hand still shook and a sick feeling crept up her spine. 

“Oh?” Abby’s tone was conversational, as if they were discussing the weather. “I’m getting enough sleep, Clarke. You don’t need to worry about me. It’s just been hectic at the hospital recently.” Deflection. 

Clarke had suspected she would attempt something like that. Pulling her arms tighter, she replied, “So hectic that you haven’t been by the house in three days?”

“What?” She suspected the tone was meant to be convincing, but Clarke could hear the underlying surprise. As if she hadn’t counted on her daughter paying attention. Like a world existed where she didn’t miss her mother. “Of course I’ve been here, Clarke. You’re just always asleep upstairs when I get home.” It was a clever lie, but a lie all the same.

“No, Mom.” She replied, with her arms still folded. “I know the sound of you coming home. I used to wait on it before I went to bed. Even tonight, I woke up when I heard you come in.” Abby’s face seemed to fall. “Besides, I called the hospital. The nurses say you’ve slept there the past few days and haven’t left.” A beat. “I’m not stupid, Mom. Please don’t lie to me.” Clarke intended the last statement to come out quietly, but it felt bitter in the air. 

It was Abby’s turn to cross her arms. “You called the hospital?” Her voice was slightly worried. Clarke knew why and hated herself for having thought of it earlier that day.

“Don’t worry.” She assured her. “I told them I was with a babysitter and they didn’t ask any questions. Like I said, I’m not stupid. I’m also not a little kid anymore.” That wasn’t strictly true, but Clarke felt like she had to say it for the record. 

Another moment passed where both Griffin women looked at each other from across the kitchen. “I ran into Thelonious today.” Abby finally said, her eyes narrowing. “He seemed very interested in talking about you. Apparently you’ve been coming over to his house a lot and he wanted to know why I haven’t made an appearance.”

It took everything in Clarke to not laugh bitterly, but she couldn’t stop the next words from spilling out. “Yeah, I’ve been wondering that for three years.” She hadn’t intended the words to come out as harsh as they did, but the effect was immediate.

“Excuse me?” Abby’s voice raised slightly, and suddenly her previously sickly demeanor didn’t seem to match reality. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

If she was asking for it, Clarke decided she was going to give it to her. “I don’t know, Mom. Maybe something about how you’re never around anymore. Ever since Dad died,” Her mother’s countenance faltered for the briefest of seconds. “You’ve been practically living at the hospital, avoiding me like I’ve got the plague! The only time I ever see you is when I’m lucky enough to pass by some mornings or if I need a glass of water in the middle of the night. And those times? I almost wish I didn’t see you. We never talk about Dad, never even acknowledge how difficult it’s been for both of us. You barely even speak to me and never want see how my life is going.” Clarke sniffed, her eyes filling with tears despite her efforts. 

“You have your other friends to talk about your day.” Abby replied, though it felt weak. “And you wouldn’t understand everything that’s been going on, Clarke. You’re still too young to get it.” Her words broke a little at the end.

Clarke took a step forward and gripped the countertop that separated them. “You’re wrong. Maybe I was naïve once, but then I had to learn to raise myself because you certainly weren’t going to.” She chose her next words carefully and ignored her mother’s irritated expression. “I might not have lost a husband, but I lost my father. Everything else aside, you should have at least recognized that.”

At this, Abby looked distraught. A part of her felt bad, but Clarke knew that this conversation was years overdue. “It’s not the same.” Her mother seemed to whisper, looking down at the countertop. “Losing your soulmate isn’t like anything else I can describe. Imagine losing a limb, but a thousand times worse. Your dad was my soulmate, the only other person in the world that really understood me, and he was killed because of my mistake.” 

Clarke froze. What? “What do you mean, ‘your mistake’?” She asked. “Dad died because of an icy road.”

Her mother sighed, running a hand over her face. “Clarke,” She began, swallowing. “Your father and I got into a fight the morning before he went to drop the Jahas at the airport.” Ice began to creep up her veins.

“It was over something stupid.” Abby continued, still not looking her in the eyes. “I don’t even remember what it was. But Thelonious and his son were visiting that day and we tried to keep it under wraps so that we didn’t freak them out. Thankfully, you and Wells spent most of the day playing outside, but your father and I kept bickering whenever we got a moment alone.” Behind her, the moon was slowly being covered with clouds. 

Tears began forming in her eyes as she continued. “Originally, I was going to drop them off since Thelonious was my friend from work, but I lied about being tired and said I was staying home. I couldn’t stand being around him for another minute after we spent all day arguing. Just because he was my soulmate doesn’t mean we didn’t drive each other up the wall sometimes. I was also being petty, thinking that getting him to drop off my work friend at the airport was my way of getting one up on him. I was pissed off that he actually seemed glad to do it. Your father was never very good at being mean or selfish.” She stopped and looked at Clarke, whose own tear mirrored her mother’s. “I went to bed angry and never bothered to wait until he came home. I heard on the news that it was going to be icy that night, but it didn’t filter into my brain until the next morning when the police…” Her voice caught and Clarke could do nothing but look at her silently.

The kitchen was quiet except for the clock in the corner that marked the passing of each second. Abby blew out a breath, the action causing a tear to streak down her cheek. “It’s my fault your dad was out there that night. I’m the reason you’ll grow up without a father, Clarke. Not some patch of ice on the road.” Her mother looked less like an adult in that moment and more like she was Clarke’s age. “At first, things were busy enough after the accident that I could put all of it aside and focus on putting the funeral together and settling his affairs. But when I stood at the cemetery, all I could think about was you.”

“Me?” Clarke somehow found her voice. 

Abby nodded. “Every time I looked at you, all I saw was a walking, talking reminder of my mistake. Of everything I lost. Everything we lost,” She added. “And how it was my fault that you were without a father. Living in this house,” She gestured to the kitchen, but Clarke knew she meant the pictures on the wall and the million other things that had Jake Griffin written all over them. “It’s been like living in a museum dedicated to my dead soulmate.” Her voice was strangled. “To my mistake.”

Clarke shook her head. “It wasn’t your mistake, Mom.” She said vehemently, as Abby shook her head defiantly like a toddler. “I mean it. It was an accident. If you went instead of Dad, I might be having this conversation with him instead about you.”

Her mother laughed, though it rang hollow. “Your father wouldn’t have left you here alone for the past three years. He would have been there for you.” Abby twisted the wedding ring that still remained on her finger. “I guess I was always the selfish one.” The words were biting, but Clarke found it within her to pad around the kitchen island to stand at her mother’s side. 

“You were selfish.” She admitted. Abby glanced at her quickly, clearly not expecting her to agree so readily. “But I get it. You were in pain.”

Her mother sighed. “I’m still in pain, Clarke.” The words hurt, but Clarke was glad she was at least speaking honestly for a change. “That hasn’t gone away, and probably never will. I’m glad you came down here and talked to me, sweetie, but I’m afraid one conversation isn’t going to solve everything right away.” The lack of hope in her voice was evident, and it made Clarke worried that she would continue to rely on her current coping methods. 

“No, but it’s a start, Mom.” She said forcefully. “You can’t keep this up, what you’ve been doing. Staying at the hospital for days on end, coming home late at night, relying on booze and pills to numb yourself.” Clarke noticed her mother’s jaw tighten. “It isn’t sustainable, and you know it. Sooner or later, you or someone at the hospital is going to get hurt.” She paused, praying her next words sounded encouraging rather than accusatory. “I really think you should talk to someone. It doesn’t have to be through Mr. Jaha’s practice, but if you’re going to get through this you need serious help. I’m glad I had someone like Wells to help me through these things after it happened. I don’t want to know where I’d be without him.”

Abby was quiet for a long time. “Is that why Thelonious came to the hospital?” Her voice was low, and to anyone else it wouldn’t appear anything other than calm. But Clarke knew better; she was angry.

“What?” She replied, confused. Rapidly, she played back what her own words and searched in vain for anything she might have said wrong and came up blank. 

Her mother released the hold on the counter and grabbed her wine glass, placing her other free hand on her hip with narrowed eyes. “Thelonious.” She repeated, as if she were a lawyer examining a witness. “He doesn’t usually come to the hospital unless someone asks him. I can count on one hand the number of times he’s done that in the past year.” Abby’s knuckles were white on her glass as she seemed to realize something. “You went through my room.” It was a statement, not a question.

Clarke put up her hands placatingly. “I’ve been doing most of the housework for the past year. Ms. Thomas still comes by to do the big things, but I’ve been so bored that I started doing it after my homework during the days I wasn’t at Wells’.” She paused, not liking the way her mother’s eyes seemed to turn cold. “I started finding liquor and pill bottles a few weeks into it and knew that you were using. I didn’t say anything because I thought you had it under control, since you were a doctor. But then I started reading the labels a few months ago.” Abby’s face was impassive. “Vicodin? Oxycontin? You’re going through bottles of a hundred pills every few days. That’s way over the limit, Mom.”

When she didn’t say anything, Clarke continued her impassioned plea. “You’re only supposed to take eight per day, maximum! And that’s only if you have a severed limb or something! Your dosage amounts could kill you by itself, but adding alcohol into the mix is insane, Mom.” 

Abby huffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m a doctor, Clarke. A damned good one. I know how much my body can take. I don’t need you, of all people, to be lecturing me on the proper dosage amounts.” 

Clarke stood her ground. This was too important to shove aside. “I don’t need to be a doctor to know taking pills with alcohol is dangerous, Mom. You’ve been telling me things like that since I could barely walk, it’s one of the perks of being your daughter.” At her mother’s continued indifference, she switched tactics. “I know you’re in pain, but you can’t overload your body with chemicals to make up for Dad dying. He wouldn’t want that for you.”

“How would you know?” Abby’s face contorted to something she couldn’t recognize. “He isn’t here!” Clarke flinched. “You don’t know what it’s like to live without your soulmate once you’ve found them. In a way, I did lose a limb and the pills help me manage the pain. Nothing more. I can stop anytime I want.” In that moment, Clarke recognized that she was no longer arguing with her mother, but rather the addiction itself. 

The thought scared her.

Clarke decided to switch tactics again. “First of all, you’re lying.” Abby made a scoffing sound. “You are, Mom. Every addict says they can stop anytime, but it’s a defense mechanism. You’re fooling yourself into thinking that you still have control, and it can get you in serious trouble.”

Abby raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so suddenly you’re an expert on drug addiction? You’re twelve years old, Clarke. Don’t lecture me.”

Anger shot up her spine. “I might not be a doctor, but I did my research. You know what’s scarier than finding narcotics in your mother’s bedroom? Going online and reading all the warnings about them and their side effects. How about reading stories about families who were torn apart by drug addiction and how easy it was to lose someone to it? Or the best one, knowing that you have continuous, easy access to these pills and that you’re increasing their danger by using alcohol with them, even though you know better!”

She went on. “What about your patients, Mom? What are you going to do when you walk into work, half drunk and tripped out on pills, and someone asks you to perform surgery? Or if you need to save someone’s life in the emergency room? Apparently, the nurses already cover for you at work, but how long before one of isn’t around? They worry about you too.” She hoped that would show her mother that it wasn’t just her that cared about her well-being. Everyone around her was starting to see the cracks in her armor.

Instead, Abby tilted her head in confusion. “How do you know what the nurses are doing at the hospital?” She asked suspiciously.

Clarke knew that lying wasn’t an option. “Wells told me his dad asked around the hospital today.” She said, and her mother’s eyebrows rose. “He was concerned about you, and-“ Her mother cut her off. 

“Clarke,” Abby asked incredulously. “Did you tell Wells and his father about all this?” She paused. “About the prescriptions?”

“I only told Wells,” She said immediately, defensive. “And I made him promise not to tell. Like I said, he’s been helping me through a lot of stuff after Dad died. He’s been a really good friend to me, and he brought up his dad visiting you today. We got to talking, and I told him about the alcohol and pills because I was worried. Wells is the one who finally convinced me to talk to you about this.” Her mother ran a hand over her face, pinching the bridge of her nose. “He won’t say anything, Mom. This isn’t the first time he’s kept a secret.” Instantly, Clarke knew she had said the wrong thing.

Abby narrowed her eyes. “Right, like I’m supposed to trust the discretion of a child! He could tell his father, Clarke! By any standard of ethics, Thelonious would be forced to disclose that information to the hospital! I could lose my license, my job!”

 _Fuck it_ , Clarke thought. “Is that all you care about, Mom?” She asked, disgusted. “Losing your job? Those regulations are put in place to keep people safe; the patients, the hospital, and you. You know what? Maybe Wells telling his dad wouldn’t be such a bad thing if it meant you finally getting the help you need.”

Abby took a step towards her and for a moment, Clarke was sure she was going to hit her. But instead, she looked at her daughter with an unreadable expression. “You said it wasn’t the first time he’s had to keep a secret.” A beat. “What else did you tell him?” 

Clarke paused and considered her options. She really didn’t want to tell Abby about her soulmark, but the alternative was making it seem like she was piling more of her childhood woes on her best friend. Even if she did complain to Wells about her mother being gone, she didn’t want it to seem like that was all they talked about, otherwise she might never get to hang out with him again. Sighing, she knew that it was time.

Without saying a word, Clarke stepped past her mother who initially attempted to grab her arm. Shrugging off the movement and ignoring Abby’s protests, she found her mother’s purse on the counter and located a stash of makeup remover wipes. Turning back so that her mother could see, Clarke lifted the hem of her shirt and began wiping away at the spot on her right hip. Before long, the vibrant soulmark beneath was revealed and she heard an audible gasp from her mother. Slowly, Abby reached out her hand and ran a finger over the mark, her expression unreadable for several moments. 

Finally, her voice broke the silence. “How long?” She asked, sounding immensely sad. 

Clarke winced. It was exactly that tone that had kept her from showing it earlier. “It showed up when I was nine,” She explained, and Abby’s head whipped up to look at her incredulously. “It was a few months after Dad died. Wells and I were playing in the woods outside his house when it formed and I made him promise not to tell anyone. I was worried it would make you sad.” The memory of that day played through her head. “He didn’t want to keep it a secret, but I made him. We don’t even really talk about it anymore. I think he hopes I’ll change my mind about it one day, though.” 

Her mother leaned back and looked at her for a long time. “This is a colored soulmark, Clarke. Do you know what that means?” She asked.

Nodding, Clarke hid her mark from view again and folded her arms. “Dad told me about them the night he died.” Her mother flinched at that. “He said that soulmarks with color in them means I’m destined to have a romantic soulmate.” The words felt strange on her tongue. Although Clarke was still a few months from being a teenager, the idea of an intense, romantic soulmate felt just as weird to her as when she was nine. 

“Not just a romantic soulmate, Clarke.” Her mother said carefully. “You have to understand, colored soulmarks are extremely rare. I’m a doctor that sees dozens of patients a day, but I’ve only ever heard of two confirmed cases. One was when I was a kid that I saw personally, and one I heard about through a friend a few years ago. The last study I read said that less than one percent of the world’s population have a colored soulmark.” She stilled suddenly. “Wait, is Wells your soulmate?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “No, Mom. Wells is not my soulmate. His isn’t colored and has a different design altogether.” A thought occurred to her. “Why? Would Wells as my soulmate be a bad thing?” Even though she never wanted to be romantic soulmates with him, Clarke felt a little defensive of her best friend. He was a great guy and she knew that some person out there would be very lucky to end up with him. 

Abby shook her head. “No, of course not. I just thought he might be, since you two kept this a secret and apparently wants you to embrace it.” Her tone was slightly bitter. 

“Well, don’t worry.” Clarke said firmly. “I don’t want a soulmate. The universe doesn’t get to choose who I end up with.”

The laugh that came out of her mother sounded more like a snort. “Unfortunately, that’s not how love works, sweetheart.” Abby looked at her with an expression that was akin to pitying. “You don’t always get to choose who you fall in love with or who loves you back. Sometimes, it happens without you even realizing it.” She paused, a small smile playing on her lips. “I thought the same way you did once. Swore off soulmates and thought the whole thing was a load of crap. A stubborn part of our species’ primitive history that stuck around in the modern age of reason.”

Clarke looked her, suddenly curious. “What happened?” She asked.

Abby laughed. “I did an internship abroad while trying to get my pre-med undergraduate degree. Me and several other students roomed together while we all worked at this surgical department in one of the local hospital. The point was to get experience, but all of us were really nervous and lived in a crappy apartment building with several other students that did other internships in different fields.” A faraway look appeared in her eye, and Clarke knew she was reliving those days. 

“One day,” She continued. “After really long day, I heard a knock on the apartment door. My roommate opened it and I heard some guy ask if he could use our landline to call home, since the phone in his room was broken.” A breath escaped Abby, who continued to smile at the memory. “I turned around, thinking it was going to be another rich kid frat boy.”

Clarke connected the dots. “It was Dad, right?” She guessed. 

Her mother nodded. “I’m a doctor. I don’t believe in things like love at first sight. But the minute I turned around and saw his stupid face, I knew it was over.” She laughed. “Your Dad thought he was a real Casanova back then. He kept trying to give me these goo-goo eyes, but it just made him look ridiculous. Turned out, he was just as taken with me as I was with him. We found out later we were soulmates, and the rest is history.” Abby looked at Clarke seriously. “There wasn’t any planning involved, any conspiracy or anything like that. We both had given up on the idea of soulmates years before. But somehow, the universe pushed us together and we fell in love anyways. These things happen whether you want it to or not. It’s just life, Clarke.”

“That’s sort of what Dad said that night,” She responded. Despite her mother’s words, it still felt weird to leave her love life up to some mark that randomly appeared on her body. “He didn’t want me to give up on the concept so easily.” 

Abby smiled sadly. “Yeah, that sounds like him. He was always the romantic.” 

The kitchen was silent for several long moments. Clarke was aware that this was the most they had discussed Jake Griffin since the accident. It felt nice, to finally talk with her about it, even under these circumstances. 

It was her mother that broke the silence. “I know you mean well, Clarke. But I don’t appreciate you telling our family business to Wells Jaha. His father is a well-respected client of the hospital and if your friend ever tells him, my career could be over.” And just like that, the moment was gone. 

Clarke folded her arms. “Wells is my best friend. Our families have been close for years, and I consider them part of my family. He’s been there for me when no one else was, and I trust him to not tell his father.” She looked at her mother steadily. “This is about you, Mom, not him. You have a real problem and need to get help before it’s too late.” 

Abby looked frustrated. “As I’ve said multiple times, I’m the one who’s the doctor in the family. I know my body and its limits, and I do not have a problem. You’re freaking out over nothing.” Clarke felt like stamping her foot like a toddler, but stopped herself just in time. 

“Nothing?” She echoed, incredulous. “Mom, even putting aside the ridiculous amount of pills you take each day and the alcohol you consume, you still haven’t been around the house in days. I barely see you, and whenever I do it’s like looking at the ghost of who my mother used to be.” The woman in question bristled at that. “Your coworkers are worried about you, your friends are worried about you, and I’m worried about you. At this rate, you’ll be lucky to see me in high school.” That possible future scared her more than anything.

“So you’re suddenly a psychiatrist, too?” Her mother shot back, oblivious to her thoughts. “I know I haven’t been here as much as I probably should have, and I take full responsibility for that. But I will not stand here and be lectured by my pre-teen daughter about how to properly deal with my own pain!”

“Mom-,” Clarke began to protest, but Abby cut her off. 

“No! I’ve heard enough. You’re going to bed right now, and you will not be going over to the Jahas again for a while. Your friend Wells can live without an update on the Griffin family drama for a bit.” She attempted to guide Clarke from the kitchen and up the stairs, but her daughter stayed put. “Clarke…” She warned. 

No. Enough was enough. Her mother didn’t get to abandon her for years and suddenly decide to be a disciplinarian. “I’m sorry, Mom. But no. You don’t get to just waltz back into my life after three years and act like my mother again.”

“Clarke!” Abby exclaimed, seemingly stunned her daughter would outright defy her. All her life, Clarke had always done what was expected of her, and now she was done trying to maintain the status quo. 

“I hoped if I confronted you like Wells suggested, you might have agreed to seek therapy or rehab on your own.” Clarke began, almost feeling sorry for her. “I didn’t want it to come to this. But something had to be done, and this seemed like the only way.” 

Her mother became very still and Clarke could see that the gears in her head were turning. “Clarke, what did you do?” She asked, sounding truly scared for the first time. 

“I flushed your pills stash and all the alcohol you had hidden around the house.” At her words, Abby let out a frustrated groan. 

“Are you kidding me, Clarke?!” She fumed. “That was thousands of dollars’ worth of medication!”

She nodded. “I know. That got me thinking about how you’ve been able to gain steady access to that many pills it in the first place.” Her mother became quiet.

Clarke went on. “No self-respecting doctor would ever prescribe that many pills for one person. Even if you have multiple doctors doing you a favor, you’d run the risk of someone else finding out about your habit and turning you in. So I realized that you must be self-prescribing.” Abby’s eyes widened. Clarke knew she was right. “Self-prescribing controlled substances is ethically wrong, Mom. Not to mention illegal.”

Her mother attempted to speak, but it was Clarke’s turn to cut her off. “I went online and created a new email account with a password that only I know. I took pictures of the pill bottles and wrote an email explaining everything to the ethics board of the hospital as well as several other administrators.” Her mother looked like she was going to be sick. “I haven’t set the email yet, but it is scheduled to be sent tomorrow night if you don’t go in tomorrow and get help.” Clarke looked at her mother and tried to convey her sadness that things had gotten to that point. “I can’t sit in this house and watch you go on like this. You need help and if you won’t admit it by yourself, I’ll make you.” 

Abby stared at her as if she just admitted to being an alien. “You can’t be serious, Clarke.” She said. “Do you have any idea what that would do to us? I could lose my license.”

She looked back steadily. “Or worse. In our state, you could go to prison.” Clarke dropped her arms after a moment and sighed. “It’s insane that I even have to do this, Mom. If you go in to the hospital tomorrow and get the help you need, nothing has to happen. You can still be a doctor and help people.”

Abby placed one hand on her hip and the other on the bridge of her nose. “You realize I could still be suspended for this?” She pointed out. “If I admit to having a drug addiction, they could still take my job away.”

Clarke shook her head. “They might suspend you, but you won’t lose your job if you are the one that comes forward. Besides, you have tenure. I went online and read that section of the employee handbook.” Abby looked surprised. “Besides, the hospital will logically want to avoid a major scandal like one of their best doctors self-prescribing narcotics. A lot of people in the nursing and administration staff really care about you, too. People want to help you, and you might be surprised how many people already suspect what’s going on.” Clarke had a feeling she was right; if a twelve year-old at home can figure it out, she was sure a few observant medical professionals at the hospital could piece it together. 

“Clarke,” Her mother sounded like she was pleading, which was a foreign sound to her ears. Abby Griffin never pleaded for anything. It was then that Clarke realized how bad it really was, if she was reduced to this. “I don’t know if I can.” Her voice was small and hoarse, like she was being asked to climb Mount Everest.

“Yes, you can.” Clarke said firmly. “I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through, Mom. But you are one of the strongest and bravest people I know. You can do this.” She reached out and grabbed her hand. “I know you can.”

Abby’s eyes filled with tears and the two embraced tightly. Against her, Clarke could feel her mother’s body shaking as she cried. Internally, Clarke breathed a sigh of relief. There were a thousand different ways this conversation could have gone, but she was glad that it seemed Abby was accepting it. A part of her felt bad for blackmailing her own mother, but Clarke knew that only an extreme method would have forced her hand. It was all for the best. Soon, her mother would be clean and they could finally achieve some normalcy in their lives again. 

They pulled apart after a few minutes and suddenly Clarke yawned. Abby’s lips tugged upward at the sight before catching the yawn herself. She pointed at the door. “Okay, Clarke. Now you really need to go to bed. It’s getting way too late.”

She didn’t move for a moment. “Are you going to get help tomorrow?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Abby sighed. “Yes, I will.” She promised reluctantly and muttered, “Not that I have any choice.” Clarke smiled a little. “What time tomorrow is the email set to go out?”

“I gave you the full day.” Clarke answered. “It shouldn’t take that long to get the process started. I just need to see proof that you’re actually doing it and not faking it.” 

Her mother shook her head, exasperated. “When this is over, we’re going to have a serious conversation about the balance of power in this household.” 

Clarke grinned. “It was a one-time thing.” She said, then thought quickly. “I hope.”

Abby shook her head again and shooed her off to her room. “I love you, sweetheart.” She said.

She looked back as her mother began turning off the lights to the kitchen and put the wine bottle back in the fridge. “I love you, too.”

That night, Clarke slept better than she had in a long time. It was nearly dreamless, save for an inexplicable image of a familiar-looking bird floating along the horizon of her unconscious mind. 

______________________________________________________

Clarke awoke the next morning as the sun rose in the east, its bright rays slowly inching down the wall until they were hitting her directly in the face. Blowing strands of hair out of her face and muttering darkly, she reluctantly left the comfort of her bed to stomp across the room towards the window. Blinking through her hazy vision, Clarke managed to snap the blinds shut before a yawn overtook her. As she was shuffling back towards the warm Clarke-shaped imprint in the bed, a low sound reached her ears. 

Rubbing her eyes, she stopped and listened. It was coming from down the hall, near her parent’s master bedroom. Connecting the dots, she realized it was her father’s old fashioned alarm clock. Glancing at her own, Clarke supposed her mother must have already gone to work and simply forgot to turn it off. Flashes of their conversation last night came to her as she threw on a sweater and made her way down the hall. It had been a risk, to confront her mother like that, but she knew that in the long run it was worth it. Anything that kept their family together was worth it.

Clarke reached the door to her parents’ room and saw it was cracked open. Furrowing her brow, she opened the door and saw that the bed was still unmade and that the bedside lamp was still on. _Odd_ , she thought. Even on her most harried days, Abby would always make sure her bed was made and that all the lights were off before heading to work. Glancing over at the master bathroom, Clarke saw that the lights were on in there as well. 

“Mom, what in the world-,” She muttered before stepping into the slightly smaller room and stopping dead in her tracks. 

Abby Griffin was lying on the bathroom tiled floor, shaking and convulsing like she was a fish on land. Her breath was coming out in short, ragged gasps like her body couldn’t get enough air. 

“MOM!” Clarke shouted, scrambling down to the floor by her side. “Mom!? Mom! Can you hear me?” Abby’s eyes were closed and suddenly Clarke noticed that her lips and fingers were tinged blue. 

She realized instantly that it was an overdose. Looking around wildly, she saw an open bottle of white pills lying behind the toilet where they were undoubtedly dropped. Suddenly, Clarke was immensely grateful for all the research she did online about the drugs her mother was taking. She quickly dashed to her parents’ nightstand and picked up the landline phone, frantically dialing 911 with shaking hands. Clarke nearly tripped trying to get back to her mother on the bathroom floor. 

Remembering the diagrams she saw, Clarke carefully got her mother to lie on her side so that if she vomited it wouldn’t get lodged in her throat. 

At that moment, a man’s voice answered the phone. “Nine-one-one operator. What’s your emergency?” Clarke had never heard a more beautiful sound in her life. 

“I need help!” She almost shouted in to the receiver. “My mom’s overdosed on drugs and I need to get her to the hospital!” 

Thankfully, the man didn’t waste any time. “Where are you?” He asked, and the sound of a keyboard could be heard in the background.

Clarke tried to push down the panic that was bubbling up in her chest. This couldn’t be happening. She thought she got all the pills in the house. How could she have missed some? The operator’s voice cut through her thoughts. 

“Stay with me.” He said encouragingly. “Where are you calling from? Is there anyone else there with you?”

“No, it’s just me and my mom.” She said, suddenly feeling very small. “I-I’m calling f-from home.” Clarke managed, shaking. “2659 Unity Street, Shadow Valley, Virginia.”

A few more keyboard clicks. “Thank you, you’re doing very good right now.” The operator said soothingly. “What’s your name?”

Abby’s breaths were still coming out in short bursts and Clarke felt like the hand she was holding would be blue anyways from how hard she was squeezing it. “C-Clarke Griffin.” She answered, her own voice sounding far away. 

“Okay, Clarke.” The operator kept typing. “Don’t hang up. Help is on the way.” The keyboard sounded like it was getting a real workout. “You said your mother overdosed. Do you know what it was she took?”

She answered automatically, having reached for the pill bottle as he was speaking. “She took Vicodin, but I think there’s also some Oxycontin in her system. I know she had some wine last night, but I’m not sure how much alcohol is her system.”

“Okay.” The operator answered calmly, as if she were discussing a grocery list. “Is she breathing? Are there any signs she’s having a seizure?” Clarke leaned in and noticed her mother’s breaths were not evening out. 

“She’s breathing, but it sounds like it might stop soon. She’s also shaking, but I’m not sure it’s a full seizure.” That thought worried her the most. “I read online you should get people on their side if they overdose, so I did that.” 

The operator sounded impressed. “That was some good thinking, Clarke.” Some more keyboard clicks. “Okay, do you have any naloxone near you? If she overdosed on opioids, it will temporarily reverse the effects and help restore her breathing until the paramedics arrive.” 

Clarke paused. “Won’t more drugs make it worse?” She asked, afraid.

The operator was calm. “No, it’s perfectly safe. It usually comes in the form of a nasal spray or an injectable dosage. Do know if you have any nearby?” 

Clarke looked around the bathroom. “Hold on.” She told the operator and put him on speaker phone as she began rummaging around the cupboards. Her mother was a well-respected doctor and likely knew that having naloxone would come in handy during a situation like this. Clarke highly doubted there was not a vial or dosage of it somewhere. 

Having a sudden thought, she ran back into the master bedroom and found her mother’s purse. After going through it for a few seconds, Clarke found a small vial and an unused needle at the bottom and quickly sprinted back to the bathroom floor. The operator guided her through the process of getting the correct dosage and inserting the needle into her mother’s thigh. After a few minutes, Clarke could tell that Abby’s breathing was beginning to stabilize. 

“Thank you,” She said to the operator once it was done. “It feels like she’s breathing normally now.”

The voice was as calm as ever. “You did a good job, Clarke.” He said comfortingly. “Now hold tight, the paramedics are just a few minutes out. Stay on the line with me.” 

True to his word, within five minutes Clarke could hear loud knocking on the front door. Taking the phone with her and making sure her mother was okay, she raced downstairs to let them in. Once they were inside, she hastily directed them to the master bedroom and watched from the side as they began to do their examination. 

It was going to be all right. It had to be.

______________________________________________________

It was a blur after that. Clarke got off the phone with the 911 once she thanked him for helping and confirmed the EMTs arrived. The paramedics got Abby on a stretcher and began carrying her downstairs towards the ambulance, with Clarke in tow. She didn’t bother to change into a new set of clothes, but made sure to grab her shoes, house keys, and her mother’s cell phone on the way out the door and into the back of the ambulance. The whole ride to the hospital, she barely spoke a word and tried to process what had happened. 

The image of her mother lying on the bathroom floor refused to fade away from Clarke’s mind. Last night, she had been so sure that Abby would come in the following day and seek treatment. They were so close to regaining a semblance of their normal lives before she walked into that bathroom. No, she realized. That possibility, as it existed then, went out the window when she left her mother alone. 

Once they arrived at the hospital, Clarke was ushered into the waiting room while they took Abby to the emergency room. The nurses and administrators all gave her sympathetic looks; she knew many of the hospital staff and even went to school with some of their children. It was strange to be on the opposite side of the glass for once. Looking around, she noticed that it seemed to be a particularly busy day for the emergency room. Clarke managed to grab a seat in the corner next to a dark-haired girl that looked to be around her age. To her left, an assortment of magazines were spread out like they had just been laid out by the hospital staff. 

Clarke folded her hands in her lap and let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in. All at once, the weight of everything came crashing down on top of her. She hadn’t entertained the possibility that her mother might die, but sitting in the emergency room placed seemed to cast everything in a much more serious light. This time, she didn’t have her mother telling her things were going to be alright, or her father quietly holding her hand as they waited for news. 

Tears began to form in her eyes as she suddenly realized that she was alone. If Abby died, there wasn’t a single member of her family left that could take care of her. 

Sure, she had some distant cousins, but none of them showed up for anything other than family reunions or her dad’s funeral. Jake Griffin was loved by everyone, but she wasn’t her father. Given half a chance, they would likely put her into the foster system until she was eighteen. Like a boulder slowly descending down a hill, her thoughts began to race and imagined a dozen different scenarios about how her life would turn out in those circumstances. She had faith in the other doctors at the hospital that her mother would pull through, but what if she didn’t? There were tons of complications that accompanied an overdose that could potentially have long-lasting effects. 

A lone tissue came into her cloudy field of vision, derailing Clarke’s train of thought. The dark-haired girl to her right was held it out with an expression of sympathy. 

Clarke stammered a watery thank-you as the girl shrugged and looked her over. “You look like you need it more than I do. Besides,” She deadpanned. “You’re really killing the fun vibe we have going on in here.” 

Despite herself, Clarke choked out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s my bad. Sorry.” She replied sarcastically.

“Do you mind?” The girl asked, motioning to the magazines. Clarke shook her head and leaned back so she could grab one.

“What are you here for?” Clarke asked after a beat, looking around and not seeing any adult with her. 

The girl snorted and flipped the pages of her magazine. “You make it sound like we’re in prison.” She huffed out a laugh and shook her head. “My mom’s been a regular patient here for the past year. Lung cancer. Supposedly, she’s not going to last the year.”

Clarke started to offer her sympathies, but the girl waved her hand. “It’s fine, I’ve adjusted. She’s never really been much of a mother to me anyways. Actually, it’s my idiot big brother that I’m here for this time.” Even though her tone was annoyed, Clarke could tell that deep down she was worried for him.

“What happened?” She asked, curious.

The girl’s green eyes flashed. “Some moron at school started making fun of me and before I could punch him in the face, my brother beat me to it. What he didn’t realize was that the kid had an older brother in the gang that runs our neighborhood.” Clarke winced. “Yeah. He got jumped by the older brother and three of his friends on the way back from work. One of them had a knife. Stabbed him here and here.” She pointed to a spot on her lower torso and on her upper thigh. “They’re all in there now getting treated.” She nodded towards the door to the emergency room.

“Ouch,” Clarke responded and reached over to rub her arm consolingly. “I’m sure he’ll be all right. This hospital has some of the best doctors in the region.” 

The girl relaxed a little, but glared at the door with an intensity that made Clarke suddenly glad she wasn’t her brother. “They’d better be.” She growled. “He’s going to need them after I kick his dumb ass for making me worry.” Clarke chuckled to herself, but quickly nodded seriously when the girl looked at her to support the statement.

They sat in silence for a moment before a thought occurred to Clarke. “Wait, you said ‘they’ are in the emergency room. Who else is in there with him?” She asked, confused.

The corner of the girl’s mouth turned up in a small smile. “The dipshits who jumped him thinking it would be an easy fight.” At Clarke’s expression, she shrugged. “My brother and I have been taking martial arts classes since we could walk. It’s one of the only good things our mother ever did for us. Last I heard, two of them had broken bones, the other has a severe concussion, and the guy who insulted me is still unconscious.” 

Clarke whistled. “Your brother must be a good student.” She remarked.

The girl laughed. “Yeah, he’s a nerd all right.” She paused, looking down at her lap. “Still, I could have handled the guy who picked on me. He doesn’t have to play hero all the time.” Clarke gripped her hand comfortingly. 

“He’s your family.” She said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “Families fight for one another no matter what, because they love each other.” The girl nodded and blew out a breath. “It sounds like he loves you very much.” Clarke meant it genuinely.

“Yeah, I guess so.” The girl conceded, quirking an eyebrow at her. “Maybe I won’t punch him in the face, then.” 

Clarke laughed. “Yeah, maybe he’s had enough of that for one day.” 

They sat chuckling for a moment before the girl turned in her seat to face her. “Well, I guess it’s my turn then. What are you-,” Suddenly, she was cut off by a loud voice from across the room.

“Miss Griffin!”

Clarke whipped her head up and saw Marcus Kane, one of her parents’ oldest friends, motioning to her from the doorframe to the emergency room. Immediately, a wave of panic filled her as she saw his expression: somber and harried. She managed a hasty goodbye and well wishes to the dark-haired girl before she leapt out of her seat towards the door. 

“Mr. Kane,” She greeted him worriedly. “What are you doing here?”

The man guided her past a group of nurses as they made their way down the halls of the emergency room. “I was your mother’s emergency contact.” He explained, and it made sense. He had been good friends with both her parents and worked at the hospital as the head of their legal team. She remembered that he tried to get Abby to go to counseling after her husband died. 

Clarke thought for the past year that he had a crush on her mom, but Wells always told her she was crazy. She didn’t mind the idea. He was a nice man, but now was not the time to toss that idea around. Around her, doctors and EMTs hurried past. 

Kane continued to talk as they walked. “As you know, your mother suffered an opioid overdose. Thankfully, you found her in time and got her to the hospital before any permanent damage was done to her body.” She breathed a sigh of relief. He put a hand on her shoulder, looking proud of her. “You did very good giving her naloxone. Honestly, that probably saved her life. In any case, the doctors tell me she’s going to make a full recovery.” 

Clarke felt her heart unclench at his words. Things were going to be okay. Her mom was going to be fine. 

“They were worried about the alcohol in her system, but it wasn’t very much.” He paused and stopped her. After a moment, he looked at her apologetically. “I wanted to apologize, Clarke. I suspected your mother might have some sort of problem, but I never imagined it was drugs. I tried to get her into grief counseling and to cut back on her hours, but she never listened to me.” Kane’s voice sounded genuinely remorseful. “I’m sorry, Clarke. I should have tried harder to help her. Both of you.”

She patted his hand. “It’s okay, Mr. Kane.” It heartened her to know that the Jahas weren’t the only family friends that worried about her mother. “I know you tried. The rest is her choice.” A beat. “If it makes you feel better, I tried blackmailing her last night into getting some help. I guess we both failed.”

Kane looked at her. “Really?” He looked slightly impressed, if mostly surprised. “What did you do?”

Clarke knew that he was the head of the hospital’s legal team and would be obligated to report it to her mother’s boss, but she felt like the jig was up anyways. 

“My mom’s been self-prescribing herself narcotics for nearly a year.” She revealed to his stunned expression. “She’s barely been at home the past three years, never talks about dad, and I was getting worried that she would screw up and accidentally hurt some of her patients.” Clarke nodded towards a nearby computer. “So I put together the proof, wrote an email, and told her last night that if she didn’t come in here today to get help that I’d send it to the ethics board and a bunch of other people.” Clarke thought for a moment. “Actually, you were one of the people on the recipient list.” She made a note to herself to cancel the email when she got the chance. 

Kane blew out a breath. “I’m not going to lie to you, Clarke.” He said seriously. “This is bad. One of our doctors self-prescribing controlled substances and overdosing? This is a PR nightmare for the hospital if it gets out. Your mother could lose her license, her job, and might even do some jail time if it gets reported to the DEA.” He stopped and looked at her carefully. “But that’s not going to happen.”

Clarke furrowed her eyebrows. “What?” She asked, confused but slightly hopeful. “Why?” Maybe they didn’t have to lose everything.

“Everyone at the hospital loves Abby.” He explained as various employees milled around. “From what you’ve told me, I can probably guess they’ve been covering for her?” At Clarke’s nod, he continued. “In a way, that’s good. I’m not saying that anything about what she’s done is anywhere close to okay, and she’s definitely going to face some consequences for this, but if we play our cards right the hospital won’t fire her for this.”

“How?” Clarke asked. 

“We get her into rehab therapy.” Kane went on. “Get her to take some leave from the hospital, God knows she’s earned plenty of it over the last few years. Depending on what the doctors and the shrink says, I would guess around six months of intensive rehab before she’d be allowed to work again under close internal supervision. She’d also have to attend meetings for the foreseeable future, but this would honestly not be the first time we’ve handled situations like this. Thankfully, Abby’s helped a lot of people around here who are eager to return the favor.”

Clarke thought about it. It wasn’t perfect, but gave her mother the treatment she needed and would hopefully begin to heal the wounds that have been festering for nearly three years. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her.

“Wait, what will happen to me when she’s in rehab? I know I’m able to look after myself, but I doubt the authorities will let me live alone while I’m underage.” She pointed out.

Kane looked a little uncomfortable. “Actually, your mother already made provisions for a situation like this. In the event that anything happened to her, I was legally entrusted to be your guardian.” Clarke was surprised; she knew her mother valued him as a friend, but had no idea she trusted him with her own daughter. 

Kane seemed to take her silence as a bad sign and immediately tried to smooth it over. “Of course, if that arrangement was unavailable, the backup was to put you with Thelonious Jaha and his family. If that would make you more comfortable, I completely understand. We’d need to talk to him, of course, and-,” Clarke cut him off.

“No,” She said, suddenly feeling sure. Although she did not spend much one-on-one time with Marcus Kane, she knew that her father considered him his best friend and Abby apparently entrusted her daughter to him if anything were to happen to her. Besides, Clarke had known him for years and knew that he was a good and fair man. She could do a lot worse than living at his house for a few months. 

Despite the temptation of being allowed to hang out with Wells all the time, Clarke knew that she would likely drive her best friend up the wall after a few weeks. Besides, Mr. Jaha had a busy work life and she did not want to complicate his home life by inserting herself into the equation. They were far too good to her for Clarke to allow that to happen. 

“No, it’s okay.” She repeated to Kane’s relieved expression. “It’s only for a little while, and I can still visit Wells anytime, right?” 

He nodded. “Of course. You’d still go to school and do all your normal activities. I don’t want this to be disruptive for you.”

Clarke looked at him seriously after a moment. “Why are you doing this for us, Mr. Kane?” She asked, wanting to make sure of something.

“Please, call me Marcus.” He replied almost automatically and blew out a breath. “Your parents have been friends of mine since college. We’ve been through a lot together. I watched them fall in love, get married, and give birth to a daughter. When Jake died,” He paused heavily, and Clarke understood. “It hurt. My mother died a few years back, and now it’s just me. My friends are the only family I have left, and I want to help them in any way I can for as long as I can. That’s what family does.”

Clarke nodded, swallowing a lump in her throat. “Good.” She managed, and the two of them smiled at each other. 

Kane looked around the hallway where they had stopped to talk. “We can sort out the details later. Right now, I wanted to take you to your mom. She woke up a few moments ago and was asking for you.” Nodding, Clarke followed him as they continued down the hall.

Abby’s room was just a few doors down from the next corner. As she walked in, Clarke saw Kane stay out in the hallway and closed the door so that they could have some privacy. Her mother laid in the white hospital bed, looking every bit as bad as she must be feeling. The blue tint had gone away from her lips and fingers, but two tubes were protruding from her mouth that likely fed her air and an unknown substance. She was strapped down to the bed, likely to keep her from pulling the tubes out. Beside her, the heart monitor beeped steadily as Clarke found a seat and dragged it over to the bedside. 

At the noise, Abby opened her eyes and spotted Clarke looking at her worriedly. Despite Kane saying she was going to be fine, her mother was in the hospital from a drug overdose. Nothing about this was okay. Despite herself, she felt anger that it had even gotten to this point. 

Her mother motioned to a pen and paper on the bedside table. Clarke grabbed it and handed it to her carefully. Several moments passed as Clarke watched her scribble a few words on the paper against the pull of the restraints. 

_I’m sorry_.

She read the words, and tears began to form in her eyes again. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the tissue that the girl in the waiting room had given her. 

“I know, Mom.” She said softly. Her mother looked at her with the same teary expression, as if she were trying to articulate her feelings with her eyes alone.

She scribbled again. _Couldn’t stop_.

Clarke nodded, wiping her tears with the tissue. “Yeah, I should have gotten all the bottles in the house. I guess I missed some.” Guilt ate away at her spine.

Her mom’s shook her head firmly. _Purse_. She wrote. _My fault_.

Clarke sighed. She should have remembered her mother would have had a stash in her bag. Reaching over, she brushed a stray hair out of her mother’s eyes. “It’s okay, Mom.” She said quietly. “You’re going to get the help you need now. Mr. Kane told me a way that this can work.” Clarke then explained to her mother what they had just discussed, noting that he would do a better job of telling her the finer details. 

Abby seemed to contemplate this for several moments. _Don’t deserve it_. She wrote.

Clarke sighed. “I don’t think that’s the point, Mom.” She said honestly. “You have people who love and care about you, that want to help you despite everything. It doesn’t excuse the stuff you did, but everyone in this building wants to see you get better. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for them.” She paused. “For me. And for dad.” Her mother’s eyes became teary again. 

_I will_. She wrote, underlining the words.

Clarke felt relief pass through her as she read the message, knowing that there was still some fight left in her mother. It would take time, she knew, but they could get past this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I want to apologize for being late with this. I meant to post this on Friday as promised, but I had a real hard time writing this one. Writing this chapter required half a bottle of wine, two sleepless nights, and a very long phone call with my brother. I originally intended to wrap up Clarke's childhood in this chapter and get on to some of the more important stuff, but as I was writing I realized that depicting these crucial moments were important in detailing the overall arc of Clarke's character. The stuff dealt with in this chapter will have an impact on her choices in the future and how she responds to people coming from similar or different circumstances than her own. I promise in the next chapter we will finally move on, but it was important to me that we address these issues before going forward. 
> 
> Also, I hope you guys enjoyed the little moment with Octavia in the waiting room. I wanted to give the sense that she and Bellamy are having their own struggles and crazy life in the background that we'll explore at a later point. There was a deleted paragraph where Clarke accidentally runs into a cute teenage boy with dark curls and freckles in the emergency room hall and turns into a babbling idiot, but I felt like that was a little on the nose. But don't worry! Things are in the works....
> 
> Thank you guys again for reading and for putting up with the pain that is this slow-burn. ;) I enjoy reading all your comments and hope you stick around!


	4. So Subtle, These Slippery Strings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the perils of high school. Clarke develops a crush on a cute boy in her math class. Little does she know, he already has a girlfriend.
> 
> Basically, my attempt at the Finncident and the resulting carnage. Small warning for brief mentions of sexual content and, you know, stuff with Finn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a forewarning to you guys, if you are fans of Finn Collins' character this chapter is not for you. I wanted to do a realistic modern interpretation of the Finncident within this chapter, so I was forced to call upon a real experience I had to generate emotions. Being cheated on sucks on a deep level, and I wanted to properly articulate that. As a result Finn appears like a major, if a bit realistic, douchenozzle. 
> 
> Also, I am sorry for being late with this chapter. I'm currently finishing up grad school and writing my master's thesis alongside this fic, so I apologize if there is a bit of a delay between installments. I promise that I have not forgotten you guys and intend to continue writing this story, even if there are sometimes a few days or weeks between chapters.
> 
> See my notes at the end for final thoughts on this chapter. As always, thanks for reading! <3

By the time Clarke returned to school after spring break a week later, nearly everyone at Green Meadow Middle School had heard of her mother’s overdose. 

Together with the similarly named elementary and high school, they were considered to be one of the oldest and most prestigious private schools in the country. Shadow Valley’s high median income and the town’s proximity to the large Polis metropolitan area a few hours north meant that tuition was very expensive. Only the most wealthy and influential families could afford to send their children to receive such an education, with many of the students coming from long lines of politicians, captains of industry, and celebrities that owned homes in the region. 

Sometimes, students from the nearby public schools or any of the state’s surrounding school districts could gain admission through a mixture of scholarships and financial aid, though this was extremely rare. For several generations, the Griffin family donated to the Green Valley school system and were close to many of the other prominent families within the administration. Due to the schools’ selective admissions process and high tuition costs, the total number of students in Clarke’s grade did not exceed a hundred. As such, rumors and gossip tended to travel fast from one person to the other. 

After four days of enduring whispers and concerned looks, Clarke sighed and wearily banged her head on the cafeteria table. “If one more person looks at me like I’m going to break, I might actually break something.” She muttered into the wood. 

Beside her, Wells could be heard munching into a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Don’t let them get to you,” he said through a mouthful. “They’re middle schoolers. Being terrible is in their job description.”

Clarke tilted her head slightly to look at him. “What does that make us?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Wells attempted to strike a regal posture from his seat on the bench. “A better class of middle schoolers,” he said in a grand voice that made Clarke snort. “Besides, if my dad is to be believed, a lot of their parents have way worse issues than your mom.”

She chuckled at that, looking around the crowded cafeteria and suddenly imagining what crazy shenanigans must go on at her classmates’ homes. “I’d hope so.” She said. “These guys are the children of politicians and rock stars. If they didn’t have issues, I’d be really surprised.” She nudged his foot. “And sad for your dad. I mean, that’s prime shrinking material.” 

Her best friend gave her a disparaging look. “I don’t think that’s how you say it.” Wells shook his head. There was a beat. “You know, we haven’t really talked about it. About your mom, I mean,” he added, as if he could have meant anything else. 

Clarke lifted her head to look at him, her chin resting on her forearm. She had been expecting the conversation for a few days, ever since he locked eyes with her on the school bus Monday morning. The fact he had waited until Friday to broach the topic was atypical of Wells; he was usually the one to discuss issues when the occurred rather than let them stew. 

“We don’t have to, of course.” Wells added quickly. “I know things have been…difficult lately.” He said, apparently choosing his words carefully. “What happened with your mom, I just want you to know that if you ever need to talk about it-“

Clarke cut him off. “Wells, it’s okay,” she said honestly. “I know you’ve been trying to give me some time to deal with it, but I’m actually good.” At his surprised expression, she clarified, “I mean, what happened was awful. I’m not trying to say it wasn’t.” Clarke took a moment and tried to properly articulate the strange flicker of hope in her chest that had appeared since the hospital. “But after years of worrying about my mom and finding out she’s been slowly killing herself, I’m just happy she’s finally getting the help she needs.” It was true; the hospital had recommended one of the best rehab clinics in the country for Abby. According to her almost daily video chats, things were apparently going very well. 

Wells’ expression was guarded. “And what about you?” he asked, seriously. “Your mother didn’t just hurt herself, she hurt you.” Clarke’s expression softened. No matter what, her best friend was always looking out for her. “Are you getting the help _you_ need?”

“Yep,” she confirmed. “I’m going to meet with a therapist this weekend. It’s not a forever situation, just something Kane insisted on to make sure I had a chance to properly work through things.” 

Wells took a sip of his water. “That’s good. My dad says getting an outside perspective is always a smart move. Apparently, a neutral third party can pick up on patterns and problems that those closest to you can’t always see.” She guessed that if she hadn’t told him about her upcoming therapy sessions, he would have suggested it himself. 

Clarke nudged his foot again. “Thanks for worrying, Wells,” she said genuinely and caught his eye. “I mean it. You’re a good friend.”

He nodded, grinning. “Yeah well, I’ve invested too much time into this friendship to let it crap out now.” With that, he began eating his bread roll and laughed at her sarcastic glare.

“Yeah,” she said, mock concerned. “If something happens to me, you’ll only have…” Clarke stopped fake counting with her fingers. “That’s right! No friends.”

Wells threw a piece of bread at her in response. “Shut up,” he added as she somehow caught it in her mouth and pumped up her hands triumphantly. 

Around them, the cafeteria continued to buzz with activity. It was the first weekend after spring break, so many of the students were still regaling their friends with stories about what they did during their time off. Most of them had rich and influential parents who spoiled them, so the tales were both seemingly insane and somehow also true. Clarke remembered one kid earlier in the week telling his friends that he went on tour with his father, travelling to five different countries in four days, sitting backstage as he played to stadiums filled with thousands of people, and hanging out with various celebrities that also attended. Absently, she wondered what normal kids in public school told their friends after spring break. 

“While we’re on the subject of caring,” Wells inquired after a moment. “How is it, living with Kane?”

“Actually, not bad,” Clarke conceded honestly. “I mean, he’s been around the house since before I was born, but we never really got a chance to know each other very well. He was always just another one of my parents’ boring friends. Given the circumstances, he’s actually been really nice to me.” It was true; the man had graciously opened his home to her and made sure that he was there for her in a way that Abby hadn’t the past few years.

“So, it’s been good?” Her best friend asked. “He’s not secretly some Count Olaf type or anything?” 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Ugh, no,” she shook her head. “His place is a little crowded,” she conceded to his raised eyebrow. “But that’s actually a good thing. It’s nice to speak and not hear an echo, you know?”

In stark contrast to the large Griffin family estate, Marcus Kane lived in an economical two bedroom apartment closer to the hospital. Although he came from a similarly wealthy family and had a job that paid well enough to afford a much larger place, Kane explained that he preferred to live frugally. He bought the apartment years ago, intending it as just a place to rest and eat in between shifts at the hospital. Clarke’s current room used to be a home office before he moved in the appropriate furniture, though he had taken extra care to make it as comfortable for her as possible. She knew that most of her classmates would have been disgruntled about the sharp downsize in her living quarters, but Clarke was immensely grateful for the change in scenery. 

Despite Kane’s busy administrative job at the hospital, she noticed that he always seemed to be home by the time she returned from school. He was almost as bad a cook as Clarke herself, but her new caretaker made an effort that she was learning to appreciate. It was only temporary, but she knew that the next few months would likely go by much easier with someone who actually cared about her wellbeing. 

“I’m glad things are working out,” Wells said. “I’ve only talked to Kane a few times, but he seemed like a good guy. Your mom seems to know what she was doing.” There was a beat. “You don’t still think-“ Clarke wiggled an eyebrow as she caught his meaning and he sighed like he was suddenly fifty years older. “Of course you do.” 

“Come on, Wells. Its _painfully_ obvious,” She implored, still amazed that they disagreed on this after the events of the last two weeks. “He totally has a thing for my mom. It’s written all over his face whenever we video chat with her. He can’t stop looking at her.” 

“Could that be because it’s called _FaceTime_?” Wells asked sarcastically. “He’s supposed to be looking at her.” At Clarke’s exasperated huff, he conceded, “All right, I could be persuaded to admit that your mother may have some unresolved feelings, but Kane’s a whole other story.” 

“Finally!” she exclaimed before suddenly narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “Wait, why would you say that?” Clarke’s side of the argument was always that Kane had a crush on her mom and not the other way around.

Wells looked at her like she was crazy. “Uh, how about the fact she left her only daughter in his custody? People don’t do that unless they really think a lot of someone.” 

Clarke shook her head. “That doesn’t necessarily mean she likes him,” she argued. “It could be that she just really thought he would be a good fit.”

“Please, Clarke,” Her best friend sighed. “You’re always talking about how he looks at her, but you haven’t seen how she looks at him. The last time I saw them together, your mother couldn’t keep her eyes off him.” He shrugged at her raised eyebrow. “My dad takes me to the hospital with him sometimes and I get bored. But she also looked sad about it, so maybe I’m wrong.”

Clarke thought about it. Losing a soulmate was often one of the most traumatic experiences a person could endure. If her mother had developed feelings for Kane while still mourning the loss of her soulmate, Clarke could understand why she’d be sad about it. Soulmates were supposed to be a person’s perfect match; her mother might think that moving on with someone else would be a betrayal to Jake’s memory. 

That thought made her heart ache, and Clarke resolved to talk to her mother the next time she had a chance. Whatever else may have happened, she believed her mother deserved to be happy again. If Wells was right and she felt something for Kane, it seemed only right that Clarke should encourage it. Now that Abby knew about her daughter’s soulmark, perhaps she now had a leg to stand on when it came to soulmates. Wells coughed expectantly, and Clarke realized she had been lost in her own train of thought.

After explaining it to him, her best friend sighed dramatically. “Soulmates are exhausting,” he admitted. “Did you know four people this week found out they have soulmarks? It’s spreading,” Wells looked around suspiciously like love was an airborne disease. 

Clarke was confused. “Wait, aren’t you all about soulmates?” she inquired. “The last time I checked, you seemed hell-bent on making sure I stay open to the idea.” She still wasn’t, but it was jarring to see Wells of all people act skeptical about love. 

He waved his hand dismissively. “That’s different,” he explained. “Your soulmark is special; you’re basically fated to be with whoever you’re matched to. Colored soulmarks are always romantic. Mine,” he lifted up his sleeve and looked mournfully at his tree-shaped mark. “Mine can mean romantic _or_ platonic. What if I end up in love with my soulmate and they don’t feel the same way? Or worse, that I spend the rest of my life searching for my match and never find them? I’ll never know then!”

Clarke placed her hand comfortingly on his forearm. “Look, you know that I don’t really buy into all that ‘fate’ stuff,” she began tentatively. “But you’re worrying about nothing, Wells. Non-colored soulmarks could indicate a platonic connection, sure, but the odds of that happening are really low. Like, a one in five chance,” Clarke added emphatically. “Why are you suddenly worried about this?” she asked, curious.

“Maybe it’s just early teen angst,” he sighed, as if unsure of the reason himself. “I don’t know, Clarke. We’re only two years away from high school, and then another four years from college. My dad has been trying to get me to nail down an academic plan for when high school arrives, so maybe it’s just a mid-mid-mid-life crisis.” At her confused look he explained, “Three ‘mids’, so half of fifty and then half of the resulting twenty-five. Twelve point five or something. Our age.” Only Wells could break down stress in math terms.

Clarke shook her head in disbelief. “Okay, first of all, you’re a nerd,” she teased, which earned her a dry look. “Secondly, don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m sure we’ll have a dozen more mid-life crises by the time we get to high school and college. If there’s anything these past few weeks have taught me, it’s that worrying doesn’t get you anywhere. Just take it day by day, and you’ll be all right.” Her own words surprised her; watching all those TV shows and books must be paying off. 

Wells’ worries were not without merit, however. Due to the prestigious nature of their private school system, the guidance office preferred to set students on predetermined academic tracks fairly early to ensure they had a good chance at an Ivy League school. More often than not, high-profile parents wanted their kids to follow in their footsteps, so going to the best college was of paramount importance. Clarke knew it was only a matter of time before her own mother would begin pressing her about her future career aspirations. 

He nodded after a moment. “You’re right,” Wells admitted, letting out a breath. 

Clarke reached over to casually steal one of his M&M cookies. “Of course I am,” she said smugly, ignoring his outraged yelp at the theft. “Middle school already sucks. Let’s not make it worse by worrying about the rest of our lives while we’re in it.” Beside her, Wells grunted in agreement and handed over his last cookie resignedly. 

After lunch, the rest of the day passed by fairly quickly. As she laid in bed that night, looking forward to the weekend, Clarke knew that things were slowly turning into a new version of normal. She had realized during the hospital visit, sitting by her mother’s side, that things would never truly return to the way they were. At only twelve years old, she had been forced to come to the conclusion that life was constantly evolving. No matter how hard she tried to cling to what was lost, whether it be her father or what her family used to be, the past was always going to slip through her fingers. The only thing she could do was accept new versions of normal as they came along, and come to terms with the fact that she didn’t know what the future had in store for her. Underneath her pajamas, Clarke’s soulmark prickled slightly. 

Destined soulmate or not. 

__________________________________________________

Clarke remembered reading in one of her history books about Pericles, an ancient Greek philosopher, who declared that time was the wisest counselor of all. She didn’t know if that was necessarily true, but the past few years seemed to reflect the sentiment behind the statement. 

Rehab seemed to agree with Abby Griffin, and after the predetermined eight months she was allowed to return home to resume her hospital duties under strict supervision. A younger doctor, Eric Jackson, was assigned to keep an eye on her by the ethics board and the general administration staff. The two got along well, and to everyone’s great relief, Abby was able to curb her addiction and appeared to have taken to heart the new resolve that she professed that night in the hospital bed. Old patients of hers noticed a marked increase in the quality of her care, and before long she was back to being the top doctor at Shadow Valley General Hospital. 

A week after Abby’s returned from rehab, Clarke was able to return home to the Griffin estate and began the tentative process of living together with her mother. It was strange at first, but over the course of a few days they managed to find a balance and adopted a new appreciation for what the other had gone through over the past few years. Abby stopped taking excessive shifts at the hospital and adopted a similar schedule to Kane’s so that she would be there for Clarke when she returned from school. As a way to celebrate the holidays and their reconnection, the two Griffin women spent that Christmas touring Europe and ringing in the New Year under the Eiffel Tower. It was a much-needed break from the familiarity of Shadow Valley, in Clarke’s opinion. She made Wells sit through an entire slideshow of her pictures from the trip upon their return, much to his chagrin. 

The time she spent under the care of Marcus Kane during those eight months seemed to cement his place in their new family dynamic. He came by the house frequently over the next year to check in on them, and even admitted once that he missed having someone around the house, which they made sure to tease him about. 

Clarke had come to see Kane as a member of their family, and tried subtly encouraging them to start a relationship at nearly every possible opportunity. Her mother admitted to finding him attractive one night after he left, but told Clarke that it was complicated. She didn’t think he was that interested in her, despite Clarke’s insistence that he obviously was. It was frustrating to reason with a person in denial, so she instead took every chance she could to push them together in the hopes that they would eventually get over their collective bullshit. Kane was one of the few people on the planet that made her mother happy, and Clarke was not about to let a simple misplaced sense of self-worth get in the way. 

The past few years in school had been eventful, to say the least. Now fifteen and in tenth grade, Clarke was neck-deep in advanced courses while navigating the strange social climate of high school. Her weeks were filled with countless study sessions, debate club meetings, and helping manage the yearbook committee among other things. Wells was in a similar boat; he had decided to pursue a career in politics after high school and was loaded with various extracurricular activities to accentuate his college application. Clarke didn’t know how they still managed to find time to hang out, but it was strangely comforting to know that someone else was just as busy. 

Around her, the hallways were swarming with students trying to get to their next class. The main building of Green Meadow High School was much larger than its middle and elementary school counterparts, with the foundations extending as far as half a city block. Many more students attended the high school thanks to the inflow from other private school districts in the area. Due to generous donations from alumni and the wealthy parents of its students, the school was a state-of-the-art facility that had twelve overall floors along with an expansive swimming pool in the basement. Advanced labs, shop rooms, and more classrooms than Clarke could count were all strewn about within its walls, leading many freshman to become hopelessly lost on their first few weeks. It was a rite of passage for most, though Wells was of the opinion that it wouldn’t hurt the school to hand out maps at the front door. 

Somehow, Wells managed to find her in the throngs of the passing students. “Hey,” he said, sucking in his stomach as a girl squeezed past him in a hurry. “How’s your day going?” 

Clarke finished rummaging around in her locker, and made sure to click the lock in place before turning around. “Not bad,” she admitted. “Mr. Pike was a little heavy-handed with the criticism today, but it was okay.”

Her best friend gave her a knowing look. “He didn’t like your painting?”

Charles Pike was the head of the art department in Green Meadow High, and it was well-known that he was…difficult to impress. Clarke could count on one hand how many times he had complimented anyone’s work in her class over the past year. 

“He didn’t say that,” she said, slightly defensive. “He just said it was ‘lacking a certain quality’, but didn’t tell me what that was. I think it had more to do with how we’ve been making faces at him whenever he turns around. Stuff like that seeps into subconscious, you know.”

Wells snorted. “Yeah, that’ll do it,” he said with a sideways look. “You have trigonometry next, right?”

She looked at him and deadpanned, “Yep. My favorite of the day. Why?”

“We had a bunch of those new kids in our class today. A couple of them are, how should I say this,” Wells paused and appeared to be searing for a word. “They’re a bit much. Just so you’re aware.” Clarke nodded understandingly.

Over the weekend, it was announced that the local public high school had lost too much funding to continue operations. The students were being sent to the various other school districts in the area, with some even managing to get into Green Meadow. Abby told her that the change was very sudden and to help compensate for the overcrowding of the surrounding districts, Green Meadow High was being generous in its financial aid package and offering temporary status to some students until the other schools sort out their population problems. As a result, several hundred new students from the public school system now clogged up the halls and were mingling with their more privileged counterparts. 

It was interesting to see them interact, to say the least. Clarke usually took her art elective early in the day, so she wasn’t able to see any of the new students except in passing. Many of them seemed impressed with the school, while others were undoubtedly making snide comments about the cost of tuition. She had already heard several of the students with famous parents were crowded by the newcomers, since the others had gotten all that out of the way in elementary school. Clarke was grateful that her family was the quiet sort of rich, where the only ones who knew them would be in medical or engineering circles. 

She looked around the hall and tried to see if she could distinguish any of the public school kids. “This is probably a lot for them,” Clarke reasoned. “Imagine if we were sent to a public school.”

Wells shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind, honestly,” he said, and nodded to her. “Neither would you. We’ve both been saying our classmates are douchebags for years.”

Clarke felt the corners of her mouth tick upwards even as she fixed him with a disapproving glare. “Maybe,” she conceded to his amusement. “But it would still be weird, especially if we were seniors when it happened. Imagine going for three years to a school and then having to say goodbye to your friends and start in a whole new environment.” 

Her best friend sighed in defeat. “Yeah, I guess,” he muttered. “Still, it wouldn’t hurt for them to be a little more respectful to the teachers. This one guy started making tiny paper airplanes and kept flicking them at Ms. Sydney during her lecture. The way she was looking at him, I thought she was going to ram that yardstick right up his-“ The ringing of the five-minute bell cut off the rest of his sentence, making them laugh. 

Quickly saying goodbye, Clarke weaved her way through the crowd in the general direction of her trigonometry class at the far end of the hall. She barely managed to get inside the classroom after dodging a rather harried-looking boy with a sharp nose going in the opposite direction. 

Clarke looked around the room and could tell that they had indeed gained several new students. Mr. Ridley, the instructor, was trying to corral them into their seats. She was directed to sit at the edge of the middle row, next to an unfamiliar boy with chin-level brown hair. 

She immediately thought he was kind of cute, but it was soon obvious that he was one of the students Wells warned her about. On the desk, he was folding up small paper airplanes that Clarke suspected would end up divebombing onto the floor in front of the teacher. The boy gave her a sly grin as he noticed her disapproving look.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” he said like she was someone coming to ruin his fun. “I’m reckless and irresponsible. This is just me being who I am,” he leaned over and stuck out his hand dramatically. “The name’s Finn.”

Clarke looked at his outstretched hand dubiously for a moment before taking it. “Clarke,” she said. “I just think you might get more out of the class if you, I don’t know, _pay attention_.”

“Clarke?” he echoed, completely ignoring her last comment. “That doesn’t sound right. You look more like a Jane, or a Taylor,” he looked her over as if studying her aura. It was pointed enough that she began to feel her cheeks heat up slightly. “Ooh, maybe Elizabeth?”

She huffed. “It’s Clarke, thank you very much. Clarke Griffin. My name is just fine the way it is.” His demeanor was so unlike the other students in the school that it threw her for a moment, like he was some bright thing in a dim room. 

She found it annoying. She did.

Finn seemed to perk up. “Griffin? Now that’s a cool last name! It totally makes up for having a first name that literally means ‘clerk’.” Despite herself, Clarke found her lips twitching in amusement. 

“Well thanks for that,” she said sarcastically. “Because your approval was totally something I was looking for.” Now that she got a better look at his face, she noticed he was cuter than she had previously thought. Damn it. 

Clarke raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, you lost a few cool points for that by the way. It’s hard to keep up the bad boy routine when you’re secretly a nerd, huh?” Was she flirting? What the hell was going on?

Finn grinned and leaned back with his hands behind his head. “Oh, I’m definitely still a bad boy, as you put it,” he said smugly, “It’s just fun seeing you smile. If I have to break out some nerd knowledge and lose a few cool points to see it, then it’s worth it.” Okay, so she definitely wasn’t the only one flirting. 

Clarke blew out a breath, slightly flustered by the way the conversation seemed to escalate so quickly. “Just shut up and pay attention,” she muttered half-heartedly, ignoring his grin and knowing she was so, so screwed. 

During their conversation, Mr. Ridley finally managed to get the rest of the class seated and began that day’s announcements. He seemed to lean on the podium like it was the only thing keeping him up. Clarke knew that the sudden influx of students had been stressful on the teachers, since they had to readjust their overall lesson plans to compensate for what the new students may or may not have been taught by their previous instructors. 

Beside Clarke, Finn whipped out a pen dramatically so that she would take notice and mocked being ready to take down some notes as the teacher began speaking. She bit the inside of her mouth to prevent a sudden urge to laugh at the ridiculously serious look on his face. 

He was definitely cute, she decided, with a well-built frame and fingers that never seemed to stand still as he lightly tapped the outside of his notebook. His sense of humor seemed to gel well with her own, which somehow made him more attractive. Wells was usually good at returning back her barbed sarcastic jabs, but this felt different entirely. Exciting, in a way that made butterflies flutter in her stomach. Inwardly groaning, Clarke looked sideways at Finn and noted that despite his apparent aversion to school, once Mr. Ridley started talking he seemed to actually pay attention. Maybe he really was a secret nerd. A sudden realization hit Clarke like a ton of bricks.

 _Fuck_. She definitely already had a crush on this guy. How was that possible? 

Finn caught her eye and Clarke suddenly realized she had been staring at him for the past several moments. Blushing furiously and ignoring his smug look, she tried to pay attention to what Mr. Ridley was talking about but the man’s words appeared to be muted after a few minutes. 

Since coming out as bisexual a few years ago, Clarke had only ever kissed or had serious crushes on girls. Her first time only happened a few months ago, with one of the girls on a rival school’s debate team following a match. It had been driven by a particularly intense debate and the two of them simply continued passionately debating into an empty classroom at the far end of the school. There were no strings, no feelings involved, and both of them walked away amicably afterwards. A few boys around the school had since caught her eye, but she never did anything about a passing attraction until now. 

Mr. Ridley’s voice suddenly increased in pitch and Clarke realized that the entire class was looking at her expectantly. “I-I’m sorry?” she stuttered, berating herself that she’d missed the first fifteen minutes of the class daydreaming. She could tell without looking that Finn was barely containing a smile. 

“I asked you what the definition of a reciprocal is, Miss Griffin,” Mr. Ridley inquired with a knowing tone. He probably called on her only because he knew she wasn’t paying attention.

“A reciprocal is another word for a multiplicative inverse,” she replied automatically, resolving to buy Wells a cake for making sure she studied. “They are any pairs of numbers that, when multiplied together, equal one.”

Her teacher’s eyebrows rose in pleasant surprise. “That’s right,” he said, and wrote her words on the chalkboard for reference. “Can you tell me how this relates to the overall trigonometric theory?”

Clarke decided in the moment that she going to buy Wells a car. “Aside from helping us pass?” she inquired jokingly, which earned her a laugh from the class and a wry grin from their instructor. “Trigonometric sub-functions like cos theta, sin theta, and tan theta all have reciprocal, or reflective, functions in a unit circle definition. If we develop identities with these reciprocal functions and use them in tangent with their original versions, we can tie them in to the three main Pythagorean identities. From there, larger trigonometric equations can be used to determine anything from sides of a triangle to the base functionality of a satellite by measuring wavelengths.” 

Mr. Ridley nodded, sounding impressed. “A little bit blasé at the start, but I like your overall gumption. Yes, we can use math like this in a multitude of ways,” he looked at the rest of the class seriously. “For all of our new students, I tell my classes that they should never say learning this stuff is pointless. Math has unlimited applications and can be used to solve any number of problems. The only limitations are your own knowledge on the subject and your creativity in applying it. Both of those things can be improved with practice.” Apparently satisfied, he moved on from Clarke and began launching into a longer tirade about reciprocals. 

She blew out a breath, relieved. It was nice to have world-class teachers at Green Meadow High, but she sometimes wished they were a little less intense. 

Something poked her cheek, and her hand instinctively snapped upwards to cover the spot. On her desk was a small paper airplane, courtesy of the grinning idiot beside her. Clarke felt a warm feeling in her stomach as he gestured for her to read, looking down to see the note he had scribbled on one of the wings. 

_Nerd_. 

Clarke snorted and scratched out a reply before shooting it back in his direction.

 _Shut up_.

Finn’s mischievous smile at reading the note only proved to Clarke how much trouble she was in. 

__________________________________________________

The next few weeks flew by, like they tended to do whenever good things were happening or, ironically, when a major project was due. 

As she expected, Wells was not overly fond of Finn’s sudden appearance and Clarke found herself slightly annoyed that the two boys seemed to only remain civil in her presence. Whenever she asked her best friend about it, he told her it was difficult to articulate but that he really didn’t ‘dig his vibe’, or whatever the hell that meant. She had hoped that over the past few weeks they would eventually find some common ground, but it soon became clear she was the only thing keeping them in the same room. 

She kissed Finn for the first time in the hallway outside their math class, and she was at first struck by how different it felt than when she did it with another girl. It was rougher, a more possessive, and she couldn’t help but take some perverse joy from the dirty looks the other girls in the class threw her way. After his introduction, Finn had gained some popularity amongst the students and she noticed several other girls trying to flirt with him unsuccessfully. It seemed to have eyes only for her, and the kiss had been a knee-jerk reaction to that sudden realization. So what if a few of her classmates shot mental daggers at her for the rest of the day.

Since returning from rehab, Clarke and Abby had maintained an honesty policy between them to avoid any more destructive family habits. As such, she was aware that Clarke was no longer a virgin and was currently dating Finn. Her mother met him briefly one afternoon when she decided to pick her up from school, and Clarke was pleased that they seemed to hit it off. Privately, her mother expressed some reservations regarding his attitude at school, which was famously rebellious, but she told her that as long as Clarke was happy, so was she. 

Having sex with Finn was a new experience for Clarke, especially since she had never done it with a guy before. It was obvious he had done it before, but he at least had the courtesy to give her general guidance on how to do things correctly. It wasn’t as mind-blowing as she had heard or expected, but it was still nice and she expected it would get better as they continued seeing each other. 

Clarke also discovered a small soulmark on Finn’s lower back, one that was a colorless depiction of a roaring fire with sharp, almost triangle-shaped edges to the flames. When asked about it, he told her that it had appeared a few months beforehand. Like her, Finn did not place much stock in soulmates or even that Clarke’s soulmark seemed to herald an epic love in the future. In a world where everyone seemed concerned about their potential soulmates, especially in the hormone-addled arena of high school, it was almost a relief to meet another person that felt that same way she did. 

By the time a month had passed since their first kiss, everything was looking up for Clarke. Her mother was healthy, she and Wells were excelling in school, and Finn was bringing out a romantic side of her that she never even knew existed. It was delightfully maddening, and more than a little exciting. 

That all came crashing down when she turned the corner and saw Finn kissing another girl against a locker. 

It was like someone had sucker punched Clarke in the stomach; all the air instantly left her lungs and she was left standing there, gaping at them. The girl was beautiful, with an athletic build and an olive complexion that matched nicely with her brown hair. It was pulled back into a half braid, half ponytail that seemed to put her pretty face on display as she looked up lovingly into Finn’s. The way they held each other, it practically screamed familiarity in a way that Clarke knew she and Finn hadn’t yet achieved. Everything clicked into place all of a sudden, and she realized a terrible fact.

 _I’m the other woman_. 

This girl, whoever she was, had obviously been Finn’s girlfriend at their old high school. It was the only possible explanation. Clarke knew that she had been acting naïve these past few weeks, but she was by no means an idiot in the aftermath. A deep sense of betrayal and anger welled up insider her, to the point where she wanted nothing more than to smash Finn’s lying face into the locker beside him. 

Wells suddenly appeared next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. He was breathing heavily and looked like he had sprinted the last few hallway lengths. 

“Sorry,” he said between breaths. “I meant to catch you before you saw.”

Clarke thought for a moment and rounded on him suddenly. “Did you know?” she demanded, her eyes flashing. “Did you know, and didn’t say anything?”

Wells held up his hands placatingly as he backed into the nearby wall. “Of course not! Clarke, how could you think that?” Wells sounded wounded.

“I’m thinking a lot of things right now, Wells,” she said dangerously. Clarke had let herself be vulnerable with Finn and had given him a piece of her heart. In response, he had apparently taken it and tossed it to the side like a piece of trash. In the back of her head, she wondered how great the pain would be if Finn had been her soulmate. 

No, at least the universe was kind enough to prevent _that_. 

Her best friend seemed to treat her like she were a wild animal, which Clarke felt was not very far off the mark in terms of current trust levels. “Look, I’ve said from the beginning that I didn’t like the guy, but I swear I didn’t know about that until this morning,” Wells said. “I turned the corner like you did just now and saw them,” he jerked his head at where the couple stood. “I knew it would crush you, so I tried to head you off at your last class before you saw them and ease you into it. But you left before I could get there, so I ran over here to try and stop you.” Clarke instantly felt a stab of regret.

“I’m sorry,” she said thickly behind a suddenly tight throat. Before long, angry tears began to blur her vision and she quickly wiped them away. “I just…I-“ she stopped and looked at him pleadingly, feeling lost.

Wells nodded solemnly and pulled her into a tight hug. “I know,” he said as she grabbed fistfuls of his jacket. After several moments like that, they parted and he looked at her seriously. “What are you going to do?”

Clarke breathed in slowly and released it carefully. Turning around, she saw that Finn and the girl were still wrapped up in an embrace, oblivious to the world around them. Her feelings of hurt and betrayal slowly stepped into the background of her mind. What replaced it was a cold determination that told her brain to begin walking over to them. 

“This,” she called over her shoulder at a worried-looking Wells.

To Finn’s credit, he at least had the sense to look somewhat frightened as he caught her walking over to them. Other students around them seemed to sense that danger was coming, because they quickly scampered away as she approached. The girl apparently noticed Finn’s tense posture and turned around to see Clarke stop in front of them. 

“Clarke,” Finn managed to choke out. 

“Hey, Finn,” she replied coolly. 

Incredibly, the girl broke into a huge smile, somehow unaware of the way Clarke was glaring at the boy between them. “Oh, you’re Clarke? Clarke Griffin?” she inquired brightly. “Finn’s told me all about you!”

That temporarily threw Clarke for a loop. “Wait, what?” she heard herself ask.

“Yeah, he wouldn’t shut up about his friend Clarke,” the girl went on, tugging on Finn’s arm affectionately. “You’ve been very nice to him, from what I hear. It wasn’t easy, with the way our high school split up. All of our friends are in different schools now and it sucks.” She stuck out a hand. “My name’s Raven, by the way. Raven Reyes.” 

Mechanically, Clarke accepted the gesture and realized that the girl did not have a clue about what was really going on. Despite her anger at Raven for having shown up and ruining her little bubble of happiness, she couldn’t help but feel a little bad for her. Being cheated on was terrible, but not knowing that your partner is cheating and continuing to live that sham relationship completely unaware was perhaps even worse. 

“Clarke?” Raven asked, looking concerned. “Are you all right? You seem a little pale just now.” It must have been true, because Finn seemed to instinctively reach forward to feel her forehead. 

Clarke reflexively flinched before he could touch her, his hand hung frozen in the air for a moment before swiftly retreating back to his side. Raven’s eyes narrowed slightly as she watched the exchange. Clarke got the distinct feeling that she was much smarter than she looked.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Clarke managed, suddenly feelingly like there wasn’t enough air in the room. All the anger at being betrayed and hurt seemed to drain away and she was left feeling incredibly stupid for letting herself get into this position. Numbly, she heard herself asking, “So, Raven. Are you a transfer student too or are you just visiting?”

Although her eyes were still slightly suspicious, the girl took the offered distraction. “I’m a transfer student,” she explained, looking proud of herself. “When Shadow Valley High disbanded, everyone was sent to one of the three surrounding districts, you know; Station Heights, Mecha Valley, and here. Originally, I was sent to Mecha but this guy,” Raven squeezed Finn’s arm, “had to make it difficult.”

The person in question finally spoke, though it seemed to Clarke that he really didn’t want to tell the story. “Raven and I grew up next door to each other,” he explained. That made more sense. “Our neighborhood wasn’t quite as run-down as a place like Station Heights, but things were bad enough that we looked after one another whenever our parents couldn’t.”

Raven nodded and looked at him endearingly. “We aren’t soulmates, but I knew from the beginning that we were meant to be together. We’ve been through too much for it to be otherwise,” her words seemed almost to ooze their shared history. “But when the high school was shut down, Finn’s parents were able to afford the tuition here and they decided to move over to the nicer part of town and away from me. They never really liked me very much,” she admitted to Clarke’s questioning glance. 

Finn sighed. “They like you fine,” he argued gently. 

The girl shook her head. “No, your mom straight up told me she didn’t like me last year. It was after we snuck out to go to that party downtown,” she reminded him, and Finn seemed to find the memory in his head. “She told me that I was the one dragging you down and being a bad influence. I almost told her the whole thing was your idea.” That seemed to make him chuckle despite the situation.

Clarke furrowed her brows. “So how did you end up transferring here?” she asked, still confused.

Raven regained her proud posture. “I couldn’t stand going through high school without my best friend, so I put in a little extra work to get approved for the Founders’ Scholarship here. It takes care of ninety percent of the tuition cost, which ended up being close to the amount my parents were paying to send me to my last school. I would have transferred sooner, but I had to take a bunch of entry exams and fill out a mountain of paperwork. Plus,” she grinned, planting a quick kiss on Finn’s cheek. “I wanted to surprise him.” 

So Finn had not known Raven would show up one day. He likely would have continued seeing Clarke while also dating his real girlfriend, since their paths were unlikely ever to cross. Even if they did not live near each other anymore, Clarke had no doubt that he still found a way to meet up with her these past few weeks, especially if they shared as much history as Raven claimed. If she and Wells were ever moved to separate schools, it would be near impossible for them to not visit each other, and that was with them just as best friends. Now that she thought about it, Clarke knew that the whole time she was with Finn, he was likely having secret rendezvous with Raven. 

The thought made her sick. 

She must have been staring a little too long because Raven shifted on her feet and was looking at her strangely. Clarke’s voice felt wobbly when she remarked, “Well, you must love him very much.” The words tasted bitter and her insides felt raw, but Clarke was glad that her expression remained impassive.

Finn looked at her sharply, as if he could see her heart breaking in two. Raven was still hanging on to his arm and peered at him curiously when he seemed to tense up. At that moment, Wells appeared at Clarke’s side like he could somehow sense she was about to make a fool of herself in the middle of the hallway. In retrospect, she suspected he had been listening in on their conversation. 

Her best friend stuck out a hand to Raven. “Hi, I’m Wells Jaha,” he was in full-on politician mode. “Clarke’s best friend. And you are?” Wells pointedly ignored the presence of Finn, who stood there looking somehow even more uncomfortable. 

The girl smiled kindly. “I’m Raven Reyes, Finn’s girlfriend. It’s nice to meet you,” she said genuinely, looking between Wells and Clarke. “I really hope Finn hasn’t told you too many embarrassing things about me. I’m not nearly as crazy as he makes me sound, I promise. He just sucks at telling stories.” The irony of her sentence was not lost on Clarke.

Nor was it lost on Wells, who reflected Raven’s smile back at her easily. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said coolly. “He seems to be improving.” Finn looked a little paler as Raven gave him a questioning glance. 

At that moment, the bell for second period rang sharply and made them all jump. Students began hurrying along with greater speed than before, and Clarke remembered with a sinking feeling that she was going to have to spend the entire next class period sitting next to Finn. 

She took back her thoughts earlier in the day. The universe hated her after all. All Clarke wanted to do now was crawl back into bed and pretend this morning never happened. 

“Well, it was nice to meet you,” she said half-heartedly to Raven. “But I have math to get to, so I’ll see you guys later.”

Raven stopped her before she turned around. “Wait, you don’t have trigonometry with Mr. Ridley by any chance, do you?” Clarke’s stomach dropped.

There was no fucking way. 

“Um, yeah?” she replied cautiously. “Finn and I are in that class.”

The girl smiled brightly and appeared genuinely excited. “Oh good, I’m in that class too!” Yep, the universe was out to get her. “Finn and I were just talking about that before you came over. This is great, we can form a study group or something!” It almost pained Clarke to see someone so blissfully unaware. 

She could tell Wells was looking at her worriedly, as if gauging her reaction. “Yeah,” she agreed glumly. There was no doubt about it; this was hell. Spending the rest of the semester in math with her cheating ex-boyfriend and the girl he had actually been with all along. Who had no idea about 

It was Raven’s turn to appear concerned. “Seriously, are you all right, Clarke?” she asked, looking her over. “You really don’t look so good.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “I’m fine,” Clarke lied through her teeth. She was definitely not fine. Nothing about this was fine. “It’s still early. I probably left my soul back in bed this morning or something.”

Raven laughed. “I feel that,” she agreed and tightened her grip on Finn. “See you in there, Clarke! It was nice meeting you,” the girl added to Wells, who waved at them as they made their way towards the classroom. Finn looked back at Clarke briefly with something akin to remorse, but he soon turned around to continue walking with Raven.

Clarke remained still for a moment, her eyes boring into the place where Finn had stood seconds before. Not even twenty minutes ago, this had been a good day. Now, it was like everything had been turned upside down and she felt hollow inside her chest. Still at her side, Wells placed a hand on Clarke’s shoulder and looked at her seriously.

“I know you’re not okay,” he said consolingly. “But are you going to tell her?” It was a fair question. Clarke had walked over to them with every intention of spilling the beans, but the words never managed to make it past her mind. 

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “A part of me wants to, but I just don’t know,” Clarke thought about it for a moment. “I’m definitely ending it with him, but I’m not sure if I want Raven to know that Finn and I were together.”

Wells seemed to understand. “She seems like a good person,” he noted.

Clarke nodded. “She does. Which is kind of why I don’t want to ruin a life-long bond she has with him. Even if he is a lying dick. I mean, she deserves to know that he cheated, but she also worked so hard to get here just to be with him. I don’t know,” she repeated, knowing it will take some time to work out. “I’ll have to think about it. This all just happened really fast.” 

She purposely left out the bit about still somehow caring about Finn, despite it all. Yes, he was a bastard but it was not as if she could turn off her feelings for him on a dime. Like deciding whether or not to tell Raven, that would take a little time.

Her best friend nodded. “Okay,” he said slowly, before turning towards the direction of his own class. “I have your back. Especially if you want me to stomp his ass.”

Clarke snorted. “You’ve never been in a fight,” she pointed out.

“All right, yeah,” he conceded. “But I like to think I’d make up for it in enthusiasm. Punching Finn has been on my bucket list for a while,” Wells called over his shoulder. 

She laughed as she watched him turn the corner. If she could make it through this next class, Clarke would be able to finish the day without seeing Finn or Raven. Absently, she wondered what her mother would think about this particular development. An image of Abby Griffin curb stomping Finn popped into her brain, and Clarke found herself grinning as she finally entered her classroom. 

It disappeared when she realized that Raven was situated right behind her, with Finn still to her right. The girl saw her as the rest of the class was still getting seated and gave her a warm smile. Clarke groaned inwardly. 

This was going to be hell. 

__________________________________________________

The main problem with the students at Green Meadow High wasn’t that they were predominantly rich, entitled brats. It wasn’t the bragging about their latest family vacation touring the world, or even that their parents were usually somehow even bigger dicks than they were. 

No, the problem was that they were notorious gossipers. 

She knew that came with the territory of being in high school. Although in hindsight, Clarke probably should have remembered that her fellow classmates would also know about her and Finn’s relationship, having seen them in the halls before. She should have also guessed that they would then spread that information with the added wrinkle of theorizing about the new girl that was making out with Clarke’s supposed boyfriend in the halls. Finally, she should have realized that they wouldn’t even wait to give her the time necessary to work through her feelings before something drastic happened. 

Clarke was still conflicted about her situation between Raven and Finn. On the one hand, she found that she actually liked Raven a lot. In any other situation, she could have easily imagined that they would become close friends.  
The girl was incredibly witty, possessed the kind of rare dry humor that actually appreciated Clarke’s sarcastic remarks, and had one of the most gifted minds she’d ever seen. From her first class with Clarke, Raven seemed to greatly impress Mr. Ridley and quickly established herself as the smartest student in the room. There was even funny moment when Raven actually corrected one of Mr. Ridley’s own equations and proposed a more streamlined way of figuring out the solution. Despite Clarke’s initial hatred of her, she really enjoyed her company and did not want to see her hurt or potentially lose her as a friend. 

Even if that meant putting up with Finn. 

He had tried to smooth things out immediately following their first class, but Clarke wasn’t having any of his excuses. He attempted to lie and say that he hadn’t seen Raven since they got together, but she called him out on it. She broke things off immediately and spent a good half hour of their lunch period yelling at him in one of the empty classrooms. It was cathartic for her, and she felt that she managed to convey how much he had hurt her in that screaming session. Slowly, Clarke knew that her heart would heal and that she’d move on. 

Kicking him in the balls as hard as she could on the way out the classroom definitely helped solidify that in her mind. 

The only thing left was to tell Raven about what happened, something that Finn begged her not to do. It was tempting to do so anyways, especially following that first uncomfortable class, but over the next few days she found that she really didn’t want to break the girl’s heart by telling her that the boy she’d loved since childhood was really a cheating liar. It was hard enough for Clarke and she had only known Finn for a couple of months. Even though she probably should have been honest with Raven, especially if she genuinely wanted to help her, but for whatever reason she just couldn’t do it. 

Unfortunately, life has a way of forcing confrontations that people try to avoid. 

Clarke was waiting for Wells by the cafeteria, since he owed her an ice cream after she paid for his a few days prior, when she heard a loud smack echo across the empty hall. Looking around the corner where other students were milling around, she saw Raven and Finn standing by the lockers. All the other people in the hall seemed to stop what they were doing at the sound and looked at the couple with a tension that Clarke could have cut with a knife. 

The side of Finn’s face was beginning to turn red from where Raven had smacked him hard enough to be heard the next hall over. The girl was standing defiantly in his space, looking at him with an expression that Clarke didn’t even know was possible for her to make. The natural beauty that normally emanated from her face was gone; in its place was a sort of primordial visage of pure rage and pain. Her eyes were filled with betrayal while tears streamed down her cheeks, matching perfectly with the fists that shook at her side. Clarke suddenly realized that if the girl turned, she herself would be visible and subject to her potential wrath. 

_Fuck that_ , she thought and quickly moved toward the cafeteria line. Wells could buy her an ice cream tomorrow if she were still alive. 

Neither Finn or Raven showed up for lunch on time, which was just fine with Clarke. The longer she could put off losing another friend, the better. Wells appeared ten minutes after she sat down at the table and slapped an ice cream sandwich in front of her. 

“There,” he said gruffly. “Never let it be said that I don’t honor my debts.” At her lack of response, her best friend looked at her quizzically. “What’s up with you?”

It wouldn’t do to sugarcoat it. “She knows,” Clarke said glumly. 

Wells didn’t ask for clarification, but just sat down fully and took a long breath. “That’s a shame,” he said. “I really put a lot of effort into this friendship. It’s too bad you’re about to get murdered.”

Clarke tossed a fry in his face. “Wells!” she exclaimed, horrified. “Not funny!”

He laughed and at the fry she tossed at him. “I know, I know,” he assured her. “I just had to do it once. But seriously, what are you going to do?”

She prodded gloomily at her peas. “I don’t know, move across the Pacific Ocean?” Clarke suggested. “Renounce America and become a Chinese citizen? They don’t extradite their own people, so maybe that would save me.” She was only half-kidding.

Wells appeared to seriously consider her suggestion. “That won’t work,” he stated firmly. “I’ve never seen Raven angry, but I imagine she’s the kind that doesn’t let a little thing like the law stop her from getting her revenge.” Clarke threw another fry at him, harder this time.

“Again,” she said, exasperated. “Not helping.”

“How’d she find out?” Wells asked, taking out the lunch that he brought from home. 

Clarke ran a hand over her face. “Gossip, probably. I was waiting for you outside a few minutes ago and heard the loudest smack I’ve ever heard in my life. Turned the corner, and there they were. I almost didn’t recognize her, she was so angry,” she said seriously. “Seriously, Wells. You really think moving won’t help?”

Her best friend gave her a disparaging look. “Come on, Clarke,” he reasoned. “Look, you didn’t knowingly do anything wrong. This is all on Finn; he’s the one who cheated and failed to mention to you that he already had a girlfriend. He’s the one who lied to literally everyone about it, and was apparently still lying to the girl he supposedly loves just so that he wouldn’t be alone. He’s the one who made you into a side piece. You broke things off as soon as you found out about Raven, and have been keeping your distance ever since. She’s got nothing to be angry with you about.”

She shot him a look. “Okay, speeding past the ‘side piece’ comment,” Clarke sighed. “I still didn’t tell her about what Finn did. I should have done that the minute I broke things off with him, but I ended up wanting to be friends with her and didn’t want to ruin it from the jump. Raven’s got every right to be mad that a supposed friend was keeping the fact that she slept with her boyfriend a secret.”

Wells was silent for a while as he digested her words. ‘Well,” he said finally. “If your friendship somehow survives this, at least you’ll have a hell of a story to tell down the road.” The look she gave him could have withered a tree.

“Look at you with the jokes today,” she muttered darkly. “You going on tour or something?” Wells stuck out his tongue at her like a child. His amused face morphed into one of anger and annoyance when Finn suddenly sat down next to Clarke. 

He looked disheveled, like he had just finished running away from a pack of wild dogs. There was a thin red mark across his cheek that Clarke instantly knew was where Raven likely backhanded him with her ring hand. Somehow, she did not feel the least bit sorry for him. 

“What do you want?” Wells spat at him, but Finn ignored him and instead turned fully to Clarke.

“Hey, I need to talk to you,” he said pleadingly. 

“Go away, Finn,” she replied coldly, once again resuming picking at her peas. 

“Clarke, please,” he said. “Look, I never meant to hurt you. Or Raven. I just thought-“

Clarke cut him off angrily. “You thought you could get away with sleeping with both of us. You thought that as long as I was here and Raven was back in your old neighborhood, thing would work out just fine for you. You lied to me, used me,” despite her efforts, small tears began to form in her vision. “You broke my heart, Finn. There’s no coming back from that, at least for you.”

Finn’s tone was desperate. “Please, I’m begging you. Just give me another chance. I never lied about how much I cared about you, Clarke. Never,” he inched closer and across the table, she saw Wells tense. “What we had, I thought-“

She cut him off again, “What about Raven?” she asked pointedly, not caring how her voice rose sharply or that most of the cafeteria was looking at them now. “Hmm? What, am I supposed to abandon that perfectly nice girl like you did the first time something else comes along? Despite everything, I still want to be friends with her if I can salvage the absolute _mess_ you made between me and her before we even met!”

Finn looked pained. “Raven won’t forgive you,” he said, and then quickly added, “Us. Raven won’t forgive us. I’ve known her since we were kids, Clarke. She’s incapable of moving on from this.” He put his hand on hers and she jerked away. “Please, just give me a chance to make this right.”

“No, Finn,” she said dangerously. “I’m done! I’m done with your manipulation, I’m done with your lies,” Clarke made sure to look him squarely in the eye as she said, “And I’m done with you!” With that, she grabbed her tray and stood up to leave with Wells mirroring her movements.

Just as she was turning away, Clarke felt Finn’s iron-like hand suddenly grab her upper right arm in an attempt to pull her back to the table. The momentum she had built up caused the action to jar the tray out of her grasp and send its contents spilling to the cafeteria floor below. Wells looked over sharply at them and moved to put his own tray down, likely to leap across the table at her ex-boyfriend.

“Clarke, wait just a minute!” Finn growled with his hand still on her arm.

Before anyone in the cafeteria could blink and before she could even think of the consequences, Clarke turned around, grabbed the front of his shirt, and punched him squarely in the face. Hard.

A small crack could be heard as she broke Finn’s nose and sent him sprawling on the floor, clutching his face in pain. Without missing a beat, Clarke grabbed her remaining food, turned on her heel and managed to make it out of the room just as the cafeteria erupted in cheers and whistles of approval. As soon as she made it into the hall, she leaned on the opposite wall and gripped her hand in pain, and knew that one or more of her knuckles were broken. 

It was worth it, she decided. 

Wells found her a few moments after that, apparently having been stunned by Clarke’s actions. “Holy shit, Clarke,” he said incredulously. “Are you okay?” 

She winced as she attempted to fully extend her hand. “I’ll live,” she said before remembering Raven. “Hopefully.” In truth, she had no idea how the girl was going to take this. One the one hand, Finn was a cheating bastard who was asking to get punched. On the other, he was one of Raven’s oldest friends. Now that she thought about it, though, the second hand might feed back into the first hand. 

“Come on, Rocky,” Wells urged her, guiding her gently. “Let’s get you to the nurse’s office.” There was a beat. “You know I would have done that for you, right?”

She grinned at him. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Wells,” she said, but added, “But that was something I needed to do myself.” Her best friend guffawed and they continued down the long hall towards the nurse’s office. 

Clarke was later called in to see the Green Meadow High’s principle, a woman named Indra Woods who was considered to be strict, but fair among the student body. Her mother was already in the office when she arrived and fussed over her broken hand. Indra then informed Clarke that despite the complaint Finn had apparently lodged against her, accusing her of assault and demanding she be suspended, no one in the cafeteria was able to corroborate her story. 

Apparently, everyone the principle talked to who was present at the time, even the teachers, claimed that nothing unusual happened at lunch and that Finn must have walked into a wall by accident or something. Abby had looked at her daughter in confusion at that, but Clarke had been too busy trying keeping a smile off her face. 

Maybe her classmates weren’t as bad as she thought.

Indra clearly did not believe the eyewitnesses’ claims, and seemed to have gathered the background behind the supposed altercation. Surprisingly, the principle claimed that since no one could back up Finn’s story, Clarke wouldn’t be suspended. Instead, Indra shrewdly suggested to Abby that her daughter spend a few days at home resting her hand, which the principle pretended was from accidentally slamming it in a locker. After a few moments of silence, her mother thanked the principle profusely and took Clarke home. 

She told her mother the whole story when they got home, and wasn’t surprised when Abby told her she had done the right thing. However, she warned Clarke that every problem couldn’t be solved with a punch to the face, which made her think absently of the mystery dark-haired girl at the hospital all those years ago. She resolved to research something about martial arts when her hand was healed, but the thought vanished when Abby attempted to bandage it and she hissed in pain.

Wells came over the next day after class to tell her that the entire high school was talking about her punching Finn. When she asked about Raven, her best friend admitted that he hadn’t seen her at all since yesterday. That worried Clarke, and hoped that the girl would at least wait to kill her until after her hand healed so she could die with some dignity. 

__________________________________________________

Sometimes, something bad had to occur before something good could come out of it. 

However, despite Clarke’s best efforts to avoid her upon her return to school a few days later, the sight of Raven marching towards her did not fit the description of something good. 

She had been just trying to unsuccessfully open her locker with the small cast that her mother was forcing her to wear when she caught sight of Raven. In that moment, Clarke felt like a deer staring at a pair of headlights; unable to look away or move. The girl’s expression was stony but determined, like she had been preparing to say something for days.

“Clarke,” Raven greeted her slowly. 

If this was the end, she was going to go down swinging. “Look Raven,” she began hastily. “Before you say anything-“ The girl cut her off. 

“Clarke, stop,” she said, holding up a hand. “I’m not mad at you.”

That was the last sentence she expected to come out of Raven’s mouth. Although she had been hopeful that they would find some common ground with Finn’s infidelity, Clarke had spent the past few days at home worrying about this eventual confrontation and may have blown things out of proportion in her mind. The girl was smart enough to murder her and probably get away with it, so Clarke had half expected to be already in the trunk of a car by this point in the conversation. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Raven continued, raising an eyebrow. “I _was_ mad at you. After I heard people talking about you and Finn, I was ready to deck you.” Clarke gulped. Raven uncrossed her arms and sighed heavily. “But then I heard Finn try to explain his way around it. I’ve known him since he was kid, Clarke. He may be good at lying to everyone else, but he’s never been able to lie to me. I’ve never been so mad at anyone my entire life. I loved him. I worked my ass off to get to this fucking school and he stabbed me in the back.” Clarke didn’t trust herself to speak and simply let Raven talk. 

The girl placed one hand on her hip and began gesturing as she spoke. “It was obvious,” she continued, “especially after I remembered how we met, that you cut things off the moment you found out about me. So I did some digging around and talked to Wells while you were gone, who told me the whole story.” There was a beat. “Finn betrayed you too. I’m sorry for thinking the worst of you without the whole picture.” 

Clarke nodded, feeling the anxiety fall away. “I’m sorry too, Raven,” she said truthfully. “I had no idea that he already had a girlfriend. When I saw you and him that day, I was devastated realizing that I’d been lied to. I felt bad for you that you were lied to. You’re a good person,” Raven gave her a small smile in return. “You didn’t deserve any of this.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” she replied. “I mean, I get not wanting to admit that you slept with another girl’s boyfriend, but I thought we were friends. Why would you let someone stay in a relationship like that when everyone around them knows it’s a lie?”

Clarke felt a stab of guilt. She had been berating herself for that over the past few days. “We are friends,” she tried to assured her. “Or at least I hoped we could be. I wanted to hate you the moment I saw you with him, but after actually getting to know you I saw what an incredible person you are. I didn’t know how deep your loyalty was to Finn, and I wasn’t ready to risk a friendship with you over a mistake that I made,” Raven looked at her sharply and she amended, “that he tricked me into making. I hoped the fear Finn had of losing both of us would be enough to keep him from cheating again and that you would continue being happy with him without ever finding out,” Clarke shook her head and sighed. “It was selfish of me to keep that from you, Raven. I’m sorry for that, too.”

The girl sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “Okay, we’re both sorry. I think we can agree on that.” They exchanged watery chuckles. 

There was a beat. “So I hear you have a wicked left hook,” Raven grinned. 

Clarke let out a laugh. “So I’ve been told. Honestly, I never got a chance to examine my handiwork.” To her knowledge, Finn hadn’t been around the school since the day she punched him and his complaint was dismissed.

Raven snorted. “You got him good. I saw him running to the bathroom to put paper towels in his nose. There was blood everywhere and I swear I saw tears on his face. He’s always been a little bitch when it comes to blood.” They both started laughing. 

“Raven,” Clarke said after a moment. “I know this is a _really_ fucked up situation, and you have every right to tell me to go to hell. But do you think there’s any way, or if it’s even possible at all, for us to be able to move past this?”

The girl stepped forward and placed both hands on her shoulders. “Clarke, not to sound too cheesy, but you’re a good person. You’re funny as hell, smart as shit, and tough as nails. Plus, you bring Wells to the table, and he’s a good egg when it counts,” they both grin. “But besides all that? You’re the only other person on the planet that hates Finn as much as I do. As far as I’m concerned, my social circle got upgraded the moment we met.”

Clarke broke out in a laugh. “Softie,” she teased and then stuck out her good hand. “So, friends?”

Raven shook her hand. “Friends,” she replied warmly and pulled her into a hug. 

Around them, Clarke was sure that the passing students were gaping at them in disbelief. Just a few minutes ago, she herself was worried that Raven would murder her on the spot. Now, she was forced to admit that Wells was right. This would be one hell of a story to tell others in the years to come about how they became friends. 

That provoked a sudden thought. “You know, you may be wrong about something,” Clarke said after they broke apart.

Raven tilted her head quizzically. “About what?” she asked.

Clarke grinned. “I’m sure Wells hates Finn just as much as we do.” The resulting fit of giggles eventually forced them to clutch each other to remain standing. 

Looking back, gaining Raven Reyes as a friend was the best thing to come out of what they would later refer to as the ‘Finncident’. As Clarke, Wells, and Raven all had lunch together later that day, she supposed sometimes good things could actually come out of a bad situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. This chapter was LOOOOOONNNGGGG. I felt a little bad writing like 10k for the last chapter and breaking up the Finncident storyline into multiple chapters, so I ended up just combining them all. That way, we can leave Finn behind and focus on the stuff that matters. Plus, I thought this was a really fun way to introduce Raven and establish her strong ties with Clarke and Wells' growing friend group. 
> 
> I wanted to give Clarke a realistic and not entirely perfect reaction to being cheated on. I mean, she handled it way better than I would have, but there were still flaws to her reasoning that I wanted to point out in her final conversation with Raven. I loved writing Raven's character and look forward to doing more of that as we go on. Kudos to you if you caught the Blake reference! :) I know this one is a little long and you guys might have dozed off by the end, but I wanted to still leave crumbs of their stuff still going on in the background. I promise that we will be dealing with that stuff very soon. 
> 
> As a final tease, the next chapter will see the gang going to college where they are sure to meet all sorts of fun and familiar people. I mentioned in my initial chapters that this fic will be primarily in the college era, so the next chapter will be the launch of that sequence of stories. All in all, I am super happy with how this is turning out so far and look forward to continuing on with you guys! Again, thanks for reading and I enjoy seeing your comments below! <3


	5. The Pull of Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang all grows up and goes to college, meeting some familiar faces along the way....;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for being late with this chapter! School got away from me for a bit there, but I finally have everything sorted and should be updating every week or so (depending on school workload) from here on out. 
> 
> For any of you wondering, in this fic's universe, Polis is the capital of the United States. I meant to have Polis and Washington D.C. be in the same world, but figured it would just be easier to have them be the same since the show takes place in northern Virginia anyways. I really like world-building, so I'm sorry if my descriptions of places get a little long. I'm a visual person, so I usually try to paint a picture in my readers' heads. 
> 
> See my end notes for stuff on this chapter and some hints about the next one! As always, thanks for reading!

In nearly every measurable academic standard, Green Meadow High School exceeded the norms by a large margin. Most of their success could be attributed to having state-of-the-art facilities, highly capable teachers, and more funding than they knew what to do with. However, this meant that parents who donated to the school tended to have exceedingly high expectations for their child’s future. This mentality was not challenged by the teaching staff, many of whom were mandated by the administration to push students to their limits in preparation for their final exams. As a result, it was not uncommon for students to be wandering the halls in an anxious daze during the latter part of any given semester. 

Seniors, in particular, had it the worst; they shouldered the usual pressure from their teachers and parents with the added bonus of applying for colleges and stressing about entering the adult world for the first time. Since many of them had famous or highly successful parents, it was especially challenging to live up to their family’s expectations. Thankfully, the odds of not getting into an Ivy League school after having attended Green Meadow High were very small, since many of the parents who donated also did so for their collegiate alma maters. 

Looking back, Clarke scoffed at her freshman self’s idea of being a senior in high school. While she thought her classes would be significantly easier towards the end, which they only marginally were, she failed to realize the time and effort that went into applying for an Ivy League university. The past summer and the majority of her first semester as a senior had been spent writing admissions essays, filling out ridiculously long applications, and debating with her mother about the future. 

Although Clarke had been on a medical track throughout high school, as the end of her senior year neared, she wasn’t as sure about her future as a doctor. She loved the science of it all, the challenge of diagnosing a patient, and the excitement of being able to save another person’s life. Perhaps it was the instinctual assumption of her mother that she would always grow up to follow in her footsteps that caused her doubt, or maybe her love for art. Regardless of the real reason, Clarke did not want to invest the time and energy into something if she wasn’t completely sure that it was what she wanted to do. 

“I don’t know,” she sighed into her textbook. “Am I being crazy?” Beside her, Raven rubbed her back comfortingly as she flipped through her own homework. 

The two of them sat in one of the three study halls that were set up for students cramming for mid-terms. If there was one positive thing to say about all the stress and mayhem that accompanied exams, it was that the teachers and staff made sure that the students were given every opportunity to do their best. Around their table, dozens of their classmates were pouring over their class notes and studying for a variety of exams. Although it was encouraged that students be quiet in the study hall, the odd groan of frustration could be heard every few minutes. 

Raven nibbled off a pretzel stick with her free hand. “You’re not crazy,” she replied patiently. “You’re feeling what everyone feels when they get asked the stupid ‘what do you want to do when you grow up’ question,” the corner of her mouth twitched, “You know; crippling anxiety because you don’t actually have a plan.” 

Clarke threw her a disparaging glare, but Raven just smiled smirked and selected another pretzel to munch on. 

After the drama with Finn during their sophomore year, both Clarke and Wells became close friends with Raven. Over the next few years, the three of them became inseparable and Clarke had difficulty remembering how they ever had any fun without her. Abby, in particular, took a liking to Raven and was always happy to have her over at the house. As a result of her excellent grades and quick wit, she came to be well-loved by the most of the teachers at Green Meadow High, many of whom claimed that she was one of the most promising students in recent memory. 

A thud of reference books on the table announced the arrival of Wells, who looked like anxiety made flesh. 

Clarke grinned as he plopped down in the chair. “Fucking mid-terms?” she quipped.

Wells banged his head loudly against the table. “Fucking mid-terms,” he agreed. 

Raven sighed and put down her book. “I swear, study hall is where all joy goes to die.”

“That wouldn’t exactly be outside the realm of possibility,” Wells said, rubbing his eyes. “I came to school today with some good news and by the end of second period, Mr. Tyler’s lecture was making me question my will to live.” Clarke snorted, but Raven suddenly looked up.

“Wait, you have good news?” she asked, raising an eyebrow humorously. “Think about it, Wells. You sure you want to share it in this sacred space, where all joy goes to die?” 

Wells gave her a look, but straightened slightly in his chair. “Maybe,” he said hesitantly, “It’s sort of a good news, bad news scenario actually.”

Clarke shoved her book aside, her interest in them long gone. “Okay. I’ll be the optimist in the group. What’s the good news?” Both Raven and Clarke leaned forward expectantly. 

“I’m in,” Wells said simply. 

It was a few seconds before the two girls caught his meaning. Ever since he and Clarke were kids, Wells had dreamed of one day becoming a politician. In recent years, he shifted gears somewhat towards specializing in international relations, which would allow him to travel and see the world. Mr. Jaha, who was in contact with many influential politicians because of his therapy practice, was very supportive of his aspirations and attempted to aid his son at every turn. As a senior in high school, Wells was fluent in five languages and able to get by in a half dozen more, while also attending a coveted yearly national internship program the previous summer, designed to prepare students for the realities of their potential careers as a politician. 

Although there were plenty of excellent political programs within the United States, the best place in the world to study international relations was the City of Light Institute in Paris. The school had numerous prestigious internships and mentor programs available all over Europe and around the world that allowed students to gain real-world experience in governing. Such was the difficulty of getting accepted to the City of Light Institute that some academics joked breaking into Fort Knox would be easier and less stress-inducing. Despite the difficulty, it had always been Wells’ dream to attend the school, which made Clarke and Raven’s yelps of excitement feel all the more justified.

“That’s incredible!” Clarke exclaimed, ignoring the looks of the people around them and practically bouncing in her chair. “Congratulations, Wells! Your dad must be through the roof.”

Raven’s smile was as bright as the sun. “I mean, I would be too. That tuition cost, though,” she grinned. “Seriously man, congrats. I know that wasn’t easy.”

Wells took their celebratory exclamations in stride and seemed to smile in spite of himself. “Thanks,” he said, looking slightly unnerved about the attention. Raven was usually the one who made significant achievements in academics, not him. 

After a moment of relishing the news, Clarke’s face slowly turned to confusion. “Wait, you said there was bad news, too?” she asked, suddenly antsy. “Don’t tell me put you on a waiting list or something.” 

Her best friend shook his head. “No, thank god,” he said, his eyes dropping apprehensively. “It’s just, now that I’ve been accepted to the City of Light Institute-“

Raven seemed to catch on. “You won’t be coming to Arkadia University with us.”

There was a beat. “Oh,” Clarke managed quietly. 

Over the past three weeks, they had each received various responses from the numerous colleges that they applied for. Although Clarke had gotten into both Mount Weather State University and the Sanctum Medical School, both of which were achievements in and of themselves, she was over the moon when her acceptance letter for Arkadia University came in the mail. It was her parents’ alma mater, and had some of the best programs in the country, ranging a variety of difficult fields. She was even more excited when both Raven and Wells got their own acceptance letters a few days later, realizing that she would be able to go to college with her best friends. 

Raven was going to school to be an engineer, so it had been a toss-up between Arkadia University or the Mount Weather Institute of Technology, which was out west. Although technically Mount Weather had the slightly better engineering program, Arkadia was far more prestigious and allowed her to be close to her grandmother, who lived an hour outside of Polis. Wells had been excited to go to Arkadia University too, but had not counted on being accepted to his dream school. Now that he was set to move away and out of her life, which left Clarke’s dream of the three of them tackling the adult world together shattered. Despite herself, anxiety began to eat away at her heart. 

Clarke silently berated herself for getting so emotional. It was normal for people to grow up and go to college, to shake off the shackles of their childhoods and become adults. Still, Wells had been there through the death of her father, her mother’s overdose, and all throughout her childhood. Through all the peaks and valleys of her life so far, Wells had always been the one constant that she could always count on. The knowledge that she was going to have to say goodbye to him at the end of the summer filled her with dread. 

Some of it must have shown on her face, because Wells leaned forward sympathetically. “It’ll be okay,” he said, sounding genuine. “I wouldn’t just up and ghost you guys. We’ll talk all the time through texts and video chat. It’ll be like I never left.”

“Aw, man,” Raven smirked. “You got me all excited there for a second.”

“Bite me, Raven,” he said benignly, ignoring her stuck out tongue. “Seriously, Clarke. It’ll be okay. You’ll have her,” Raven pulled Clarke into a one-armed hug at his words, “Besides, we can always meet up for Christmas.” That was true.

Clarke nodded, knowing that they would always be friends no matter the distance. “Yeah, I know,” she said finally. “I’m happy for you, Wells. Really.” She needed for him to understand that. It was an incredible opportunity for him to be able to study in Paris and would help him later on in his career. 

“I get it,” he replied understandingly, “You’ve been around my whole life too, you know. It’ll be weird to be away from my best-,” Raven made a loud cough, “one of my best friends,” he clarified with a glare. “But we’ll cross that bridge when it gets here.”

He was right, she realized. They still had half a school year and entire summer to get through first. Clarke resolved to make the most of their remaining time together, knowing that going to college was going to be enough of a culture shock without one of her closest friends. It wouldn’t hurt to make some memories along the way.

Clarke nodded, gave Raven a squeeze back. “I guess that means we don’t need to get an apartment off-campus,” she reasoned, since they had all intended to live together in one place. “We can room together at the university.”

Her friend’s eyes lit up. “Are we thinking double, triple, or quad?” she asked. 

Clarke thought for a moment. “I’d have to look at the housing plans again, but probably a triple. They’re the cheapest option and we’d be practically forcing ourselves to make at least one new friend,” she grinned across the table, “With Wells leaving, we have to audition for a replacement.” Her best friend made a disgruntled noise as he took a book from the top of the nearby pile.

Raven smirked. “That’s right, we do,” she teased. “I vote someone cool this time. Less nerdy. We can’t look like dweebs right from the start. Our reputations would be shot.” They both laughed.

“You guys are hilarious,” Wells deadpanned, heaving open a massive reference book with an audible _thunk_. “And not to reinforce the idea that I’m a nerd, but we really do need to study. If the guy behind me this morning was telling the truth, Mr. West isn’t kidding around with the history mid-term this year.” Both Clarke and Raven groaned. 

“Damn,” Raven muttered darkly as she opened her notes, “And here I was hoping he’d take it easy on us. Given his cheery disposition and everything, you know.”

“You’re just mad because he called you a know-it-all,” Clarke snorted.

“He threatened to tape my mouth shut!” she replied hotly, “All I did was correct him on one silly little date!” Four eyes looked up from their books at her. “Okay, more than a few. But can you blame me? The guy is supposed to have two doctorates on the subject, and he expects us to remember stuff he can’t?”

There was a small pause before Wells furrowed his brows. “You said that exact thing to him, didn’t you?” he asked, suspicious.

Raven suddenly became very interested in her notes. “No,” came the quiet reply.

“She did,” Clarke told Wells amusedly and dodged Raven’s retaliatory smack on the arm. “I was there. You would have thought she’d insulted his mother, he was so mad.”

“He would have let it go if you guys didn’t yell, ‘burn’,” she replied defensively. “That set him over the edge. His pride was at stake.”

Wells couldn’t hide his amusement anymore. “I’m pretty sure his pride was a stake when you insulted his ability to recall three decades teaching and two doctorate’s worth of history,” He leaned forward grinning, “I think you’re just mad he’s the only teacher who doesn’t worship the ground you walk on.”

“Hey,” Raven retorted, jabbing a finger in his direction. “That isn’t even remotely true! I don’t care if he hates me or not,” He raised an eyebrow and her posture deflated somewhat. “Okay, fine! It bothers me a little. You happy?” she grumbled.

“Ecstatic,” Wells replied with a smile, returning to his book.

“It’s good to know you have flaws like the rest of us, Rae,” Clarke teased. 

“It’s just weird!” Raven said, frustrated. “He never liked me, and I can’t figure out why. I do well in his class, I ask good questions, and am well-liked by pretty much all of his colleagues. Why not him?”

Clarke looked at her seriously. “Some people just aren’t going to like you,” she reasoned. “They don’t have to have a reason. There’s not a whole lot you can do about it.”

“I know,” her friend said, sighing. “It just bugs me. If I get a bad grade in his class, my scholarship goes away. That’s why I’ve made a point to be nice to all my teachers. Unlike a lot of these guys,” she motioned to the surrounding students, “If my scholarship goes away, so do I.”

Wells stopped reading and considered her words. “You’re really worried that he’s going to go rough on your grade because you insulted him,” he realized.

She nodded, looking unusually anxious.

It was a sore point with Raven, that her family did not have as much money as everyone else’s. Her mother ran out when she was young, and her father worked two jobs for years just to put food on the table, much less pay for an expensive private school for his only child. Mr. Reyes had always been proud of his daughter, but seeing her get into a prestigious school like Green Meadow High with a full academic scholarship meant a lot to him. According to Raven, he nearly broke down in tears of joy when she told him she had been accepted to Arkadia University with a full ride. Above all else, Raven didn’t want to waste the chance that she knew her father would have killed for and disappoint him.

Clarke exchanged a glance with Wells before placing a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Raven,” she said calmly, “You’re worrying about nothing. Really,” she insisted when the girl huffed, “Mr. West may be a dick from time to time, but he’s a professional. He wouldn’t give you a bad grade just because you poked him a little.” Raven seemed to relax somewhat.

“Besides,” Wells added carefully. “You know you could never disappoint your dad, Raven. He loves you, no matter what.”

She nodded and was silent for a moment. “Even if I end up poor and working the streets?” she finally inquired, her tone light. 

Clarke nodded seriously, but Wells grinned. “Well I don’t know about him, but we’d certainly like you more.”

Raven laughed. “Your flirting needs work, Jaha. Lines like that won’t get you those cute French girls.” 

“You both need to work,” Clarke said, prodding their books with her pencil. “History isn’t anyone’s favorite subject, so we need to cram. Hard,” she winced and shut her eyes, knowing that the two of them were smirking, “Yeah, I know. It sounded better in my head.”

“Just as long as you’re aware,” Wells returned with a smile. 

Thankfully, Clarke was able to review some of the more important notes she took during the last recap lecture before the bell rang again. There was a collective scraping of chairs as they all got up from their tables and began filing out of the study hall. Mutinous grumbles could be heard as they each made their way towards their next round of exams. Before long, Clarke was stuck looking down at the first question in her six-page history mid-term. 

_Which English king raised the land-based tax, the Danegeld in the year 991?_

Damn it. The question came from one of the few time periods that they hadn’t discussed in class, which Clarke didn’t think was any coincidence. Brief flashes of pages from the optional reading came across her mind, though very little stood out. Mr. West was famous for making his exam questions ridiculously obscure, in an effort to prevent students from selling exam guides to the upcoming class. All that it ever really seemed to accomplish was make the student body perform worse on their exams than if they had been adequately prepared. 

Although some students were hunched over their exams in frustration, others shot loathing glares at their teacher, who sat at the front of the classroom watching them with an indifferent look on his face. Mentally steeling herself, Clarke blew out a breath and set her pencil to the paper. 

_Well_ , she thought. _Here goes nothing._

__________________________________________________

While the act of studying is sometimes seen as the worst part of taking exams, Clarke felt something could be said for the immediate aftermath as well. It was a kind of mental and physical exhaustion that seemed to only manifest after taking an academic evaluation, complete with an aching spine and throbbing headaches. For Clarke, the pain usually started in her temples as a dull drum beat before slowly making its way inward toward the spine, which was sore from leaning forward in her seat for hours on end. When she finally made it home at the end of the day, Clarke collapsed in exhaustion on the living room couch and laid there motionless with her head buried in one of the pillows. 

She was done. For half a semester, at least. 

The muffled sounds of someone talking caused Clarke to reluctantly lift her head. Her mother was peering around the corner, looking amusedly at her. 

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Clarke sighed, running a hand over her face and sitting up. “What were you saying?”

Abby nodded back towards the kitchen. “I was just asking how many grilled cheese sandwiches you want tonight.”

“You’re cooking?” she asked without thinking. It was rare for her mother to cook anything, though both of them would admit that grilled cheese and tomato soup was easy enough for anyone to do halfway decently. 

“It’s been a while,” Abby replied simply. “When I remembered you were finishing your mid-terms today, I thought we could both use some comfort food instead of our usual takeout,” she motioned again. “So – two?”

Clarke got up and followed her into the kitchen, the smell of tomato soup and the sizzling of butter hitting her as soon as the door opened. Her mouth watered unconsciously and her stomach gave a tentative growl. “I think three, actually,” she told her mother, taking one of the barstool seats next to the kitchen’s island. 

Nodding, Abby got back to the stove and began preparing the sandwiches. The standard Griffin recipe was two slices of American cheese, with butter on both outside slices of bread, and a dash of oregano and garlic power once grilled. As her mother laid the first sandwich carefully on the skillet, she glanced back at Clarke.

“So,” she said lightly, “How do you think you did?” It was no secret that Clarke had been stressing heavily about her final year of high school and her overall GPA.

“Surprisingly, I think I did okay,” Clarke confessed, finding it strange to say that out loud. After the initial few tough questions on her history mid-term, the rest of the exam was relatively simple and followed their in-class material. Her other classes were much more manageable, since they actually followed her chosen career field. “It was rough for a bit, but everything clicked in place after a while.”

Abby looked happy for her. “That’s great, Clarke,” she said genuinely. “Don’t stress about the results right now. Finals are right around the corner; there’s plenty of stress to go around already.” That knowledge caused her stomach to drop.

“Yeah,” Clarke groaned sarcastically, placing her head on the cool surface of the counter. “Thanks for the reminder, Mom.”

Her mother gave her an endearing look over her shoulder. “I’m just saying, you’ve gotten the mid-terms done and now you can focus on studying for the finals over the next few weeks. My point is that you have time to prepare after you relax a little.”

Clarke grunted in response, though she lifted her head as the day’s events began flooding back to her. “Oh, did you hear that Wells got into the City of Light Institute?”

Abby whipped around, joy evident on her face. “He did?” she exclaimed. “That’s wonderful! I’m sure Thelonious is beside himself right now.”

She grinned. “Yeah, Wells was pretty excited about it when he told us.” Remembering that her best friend was leaving at the end of the summer still stung. 

It must have shown on her face, because her mother gave her a quizzical look. “You don’t seem very happy,” Abby noted, “He’s been wanting to get into that school since he was a kid, you know. It might help if you looked excited for him. Just saying,” she added to Clarke’s perturbed face. 

“No, it’s not that,” she explained. “I _am_ happy for him. It’s just, Raven and I realized that he wouldn’t be going to Arkadia with us in the fall.”

“That’s right,” Abby murmured in understanding. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I know you were really excited about that.”

“Yeah,” Clarke sighed. “It would have been great to have the three of us go together, but I know he’s been wanting to go there since elementary school.”

Her mother continued stirring the tomato soup and occasionally flipped a grilled cheese sandwich. “I know this sucks, but it was going to happen sometime,” she reasoned gently. “Life takes us all in different directions, but that doesn’t mean you won’t still be best friends.” 

Clarke knew this, but it still sucked. She absently wondered how people who moved constantly could handle having to lose their friends every few years and start all over again somewhere else. “I know,” she said softly. “I just hoped it wouldn’t be for a little while longer.”

“Well, think of it this way; you still have Raven going with you,” Abby pointed out. “With all the ways we have to stay connected with people today, I’m sure you two will have no trouble keeping in touch with Wells while he’s in France. Besides, you’ll only be a few hours away home if you ever need to get away from Polis,” she looked back reassuringly, “You can come home anytime, honey. You know that, right?”

Warmth filled Clarke’s chest, and not for the first time she marveled at how far they’ve come in just a few short years. “Thanks, Mom,” she replied with a smile, and then remembered her earlier conversation with Raven. “Actually, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something.” Better test the waters now, instead of in the fall. 

Abby peered over her shoulder curiously. “What is it, sweetie?”

Clarke took a breath before starting. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” she said carefully. “About becoming a doctor. I know it’s what I’ve been preparing my entire academic career for, but I’m just not sure whether or not –”

“You want to become a doctor after all?” Abby finished for her understandingly. 

“Yeah,” Clarke replied quietly. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to be one,” she added quickly. “It’s just that, I don’t want to make this huge life decision now and find out later that I would have been happier learning to become an artist instead.” It was ridiculous, Clarke thought, that teenagers were expected to decide how they want to spend the rest of their lives without any sort of leeway. 

Her mother, for her part, didn’t look disappointed in the fact her daughter was unsure of following in her footsteps. “Clarke, I understand,” she said gently. “Being a doctor is a huge personal and financial commitment. It requires years of intense study and practice, which is only compounded by your residency and then again at your eventual job. It’s a big responsibility, and not something that should ever be taken lightly.”

Clarke looked down at her hands. “So, you think I shouldn’t go for it?” she asked. It sounded like being a doctor required a bit more surety than she was currently capable of. 

To her surprise, her mother shook her head. “I never said that,” she said emphatically. “Do you really think that I didn’t have any doubt about becoming a doctor? Before I went to medical school, I was seriously considering a career as a geologist.”

An image of her mother thigh-deep in mud and grinning with a rock in her hand flitted across Clarke’s mind. “Really?” she asked, trying not to smile.

Abby waved her hand. “Yeah, yeah,” she said with huff. “I know it seems silly now. What I’m trying to say is that you are not the first person in this family who has thought about taking their life in a different direction. Your dad wanted to be in a band before I met him, back when he wasn’t sure whether or not college was the way he wanted to go. The very fact that you understand becoming a doctor won’t be easy tells me that you’re not going into this with any negative preconceived notions.”

“But do you think I should?” Clarke asked worriedly. “Wouldn’t I be happier doing something I thoroughly enjoy as a career?”

Her mother paused and stopped stirring the tomato soup to look at her properly. “You might,” she conceded. “But keep in mind, sweetie, even if you have a career as an artist, it’ll still be a job. You’ll be expected to work for your money, and it won’t always be easy. People who say that if you do what you love, you’ll never work a day in your life often leave out the possibility of it becoming dull over time because it’ll be your real job and not an escape.”

“I know,” Clarke sighed. “I don’t want making my art to become something that I end up dreading. But I also don’t want to be stuck with a career that I paid spent years working towards, only to find out that I would have been better off following my passions.”

“Clarke, whatever you want to do in life, you’ll always have my support. I love you, and want you to be happy,” Abby said genuinely. “I think you’ll make an incredible doctor, and an equally amazing professional artist.”

“I’m just having a hard time deciding what I want to do for the rest of my life,” Clarke admitted, laying her head back down on the counter.

Her mother seemed to understand. “You know, you can do both,” she reasoned. “I’m not saying do two degrees at once, but you could study to be a doctor and take a few art classes as electives. You can always pursue your art on the side. You won’t have to rely on it for income, you’d be able to do things on your terms, and it would still be something that brought you joy. At the very least, you’d have a solid medical career to fall back on if anything goes wrong. The world isn’t likely to stop needing doctors any time soon.”

The more Clarke thought about it, the more it made sense. Sure, she wouldn’t get to do art full-time, but it would allow her to slowly make a name for herself in the world on her own terms, without having to go down the traditional starving artist route. Even if she ended up hating the medical profession, which she sincerely doubted, being an artist on the side would give her an outlet and the time needed to build that profession. 

“That…actually makes sense,” Clarke said finally and then smiled. “I’m going to be a grown up soon, anyways. If I can’t do both, what’s the point?”

Abby laughed. “Be careful, honey,” she said, still chuckling, “I think you’ll find being an adult isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be. It’s a lot of compromises, no matter how well you think you’ve rigged the game.”

Clarke snorted. “Did you get that from somewhere?” she asked with a grin.

“Nope,” her mother sniffed. “That was an original Abby Griffin quote. Feel free to cross-stitch that on a pillow or something if you like.” The two of them laughed.

It took a moment before Clarke realized that her mother made an unusually large number of grilled cheese sandwiches. Six were already on the platter while another two were sizzling on the skillet. “Not that I don’t love grilled cheese, Mom,” she said, “But that seems like a little much for just the two of us.”

“Marcus is coming over a little later,” Abby replied with a strange tone. “He’s coming straight from the hospital, so I thought he’d like us to save him a few.”

“Uh-huh,” Clarke teased. “I’m sure he’ll think that’s…nice.” Abby mother shot an exasperated look over her shoulder at her daughter, who was grinning broadly.

“Don’t start,” she warned. “This doesn’t mean anything. It’s just one person giving another person food, not a damn marriage proposal.”

“Oh, so you have thought about marriage, huh?” Clarke continued to poke amusedly. “I was wondering how long you were going to drag this on with him, Mom.”

The past few years, the intricate back-and-forth dance between Abby Griffin and Marcus Kane had only gotten more ridiculous. Although neither side would publicly admit their feelings for one another, nearly everyone could read the subtext between the two of them. Raven picked it up on her first trip over to the Griffin household, and pointed it out privately to Clarke’s immediate delight. It was extremely frustrating to watch them wait for the other to make the first move, so Clarke made sure to poke at them every chance she got. Hopefully, one day things would boil over and they would finally put them all out of their collective misery and get together. 

It was like waiting for a screensaver block to hit the corner of a television screen. Constant excitement and anticipation, only to be disappointed. Sue her if she had some fun with them in the meantime. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Abby said a little too loudly. “There’s nothing between Marcus and I. Really,” she added to Clarke’s raised eyebrow. “Honestly, I don’t know why you keep insisting we get together.”

Her mother’s statement was so ridiculous, it took Clarke a moment to shake it off. “Uh, maybe because you two are crazy about each other?” she suggested after a beat.

“Come on, Clarke,” Abby replied distractedly. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Right, and I’m Porky Pig, “ Clarke deadpanned. “Come on, you admitted he was cute years ago, so don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it. What’s the big deal if you ask him out?”

Her mother sighed and placed both hands on the counter with her back to Clarke. “We’re finally in a good place. This family,” she clarified carefully. “Losing your soulmate is not something everyone comes back from. I was in a really dark place for a long time, and I only got out of it because of you.” It was not often that they talked about her overdose anymore, which made Clarke drop the teasing grin on her face. 

“I was lucky to have friends like Marcus and Thelonious,” Abby continued, putting the last grilled cheese on the platter and turning off the burner. “Those months in rehab changed everything, and they were gracious enough to help shoulder the responsibilities that should have been mine while I was away. You don’t realize it yet, but having true friends like that, who are willing to stand by you no matter what, is an extremely rare and precious thing.”

Clarke thought for a bit. “Is that why you won’t make a move on him?” she asked, genuinely saddened by the thought. “You’re scared that you’ll lose Kane if things go badly between you two?”

Abby shut off the burner for the soup and placed a lit on the pot. “I’m scared of losing Kane, period,” she blurted out, as silence filled the kitchen. 

The reality of the situation hit Clarke over the head; her mother was terrified of losing Marcus Kane the same way she lost her soulmate. It was too much; if anything like that happened again, she wasn’t sure her mother would be able to move past it. Although Clarke hadn’t thought about her own soulmark in a long time, she couldn’t imagine the mental fortitude required to put oneself back out there after suffering such a loss. Suddenly, she felt a little guilty for poking at her mother over the past few years. She just wanted her mother to be happy, but she lost sight of how sometimes happiness came with a warning sign. 

“I see the way he looks at me,” Abby said quietly. “I’m not blind, you know. And you’re not the only person to point out these things to me.” Clarke ducked her head. “I just think Marcus deserves someone a little less…damaged.” The face her mother made with that statement made Clarke’s heart constrict. 

“Hey,” she said hotly, “You are _not_ damaged, Mom. The fact you were able to pull yourself together after everything that happened to us is nothing short of incredible. I know it, Kane knows it, everyone knows it. Don’t let anyone tell you different.” After a moment, Abby nodded slowly. 

“It’s just…hard,” she replied simply. “I think he’s waiting on me to make the first move, bless him, but I just don’t know if I’m there yet. I love him, but…shut up,” she added to Clarke’s triumphant grin, “I just don’t want him to wait around forever while I psych myself into the right mindset for a relationship. He deserves to be happy, not pining after someone who can’t get her feelings sorted.” The helplessness on her face seemed to almost radiate outward.

Clarke got up from her chair and came around the island to wrap her in a tight hug. “It’s okay, Mom,” she said into her shoulder. “Take all the time you need. Everyone just wants you to have as much happiness as possible in your life. Kane’s been friends with our family for decades, so I don’t think he’s going anywhere. But Mom,” Clarke leaned back to look at her seriously, “You need to talk to him about this.”

“Oh hell no,” Abby half-chuckled, fear dashing across her face at the notion. 

“I’m serious,” she retorted forcefully. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but he deserves to know where your head is. Like I said, he’s not going anywhere. Getting everything out in the open will let the two of you get on the same page and figure out where you go from there. Besides,” she added mischievously, “It might finally cut away some of that tension between you two.”

Her mother laughed. “I take it this little conversation won’t stop you from poking us, huh?”

“Nope,” Clarke snorted. “That’s not going away ever. Not after you told me you love him,” she added in a sing-song voice. 

Abby sighed, but pulled her in for another hug with a reluctant smile. At that moment, the sound of the front door opening caused both of them to freeze in place. After a few seconds, Marcus Kane poked his head into the kitchen, likely drawn in by the smell of freshly-cooked grilled cheese and tomato soup.

“Hey, you two!” he said cheerily. Clarke and Abby glanced at each other for a split second before bursting out laughing. It was several moments before they calmed down enough for Kane to ask quizzically, “Um, did I miss something?”

Abby shook her head, disengaged herself from Clarke, and moved to get the grilled cheese sandwiches from the counter. "No,” she said warmly. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

The expression on Kane’s face was dubious, but he eventually shrugged and followed Clarke in helping to set up the dinner table. “Whatever you say,” he replied to Abby with a smile. 

_____________________________________________________

As they always did when she was dreading something, the next few months seemed to fly by. 

Ever since Wells announced to the group that he was leaving for France in the fall, Clarke became determined to get the most out of their remaining time together. Once school was over and graduation had passed, the three of them spent nearly available moment not already spent on college preparation together. They went to New York City for a weekend, attended enough concerts to lose their voices several times over, and spent countless hours just trudging around Shadow Valley in an effort to burn it into their memories. It was the best summer Clarke had ever had, and it was over far too quickly. Now, she was being forced to say goodbye.

Around her, both returning and departing passengers shuffled past much like a river would against a rather large stone. The dull voice of a man on the intercom somehow managed to make itself heard over the din of the crowd. Although Pramheda International Airport wasn’t the largest in the country, it still fielded a large number of travelers every year going to hundreds of destinations around the globe. Clarke sometimes wondered how the airlines managed to keep track of the chaos around them, or if there even was system behind the madness. She followed that rabbit trail in her mind for a moment, preferring to think about anything other than the reason she was here. 

Clarke was jostled out of her thoughts by Raven, who stood beside her looking every bit as sad as she felt. “Hey,” she said gently. “It’s time.” An announcer on the intercom confirmed her words a few moments later. 

Wells turned around and looked at the group of them; Clarke, Raven, Thelonious Jaha, Abby, and Kane. Each one looked a strange mix of sad and proud, the first for having to say goodbye and the second for all that they knew he would one day accomplish. Clarke watched as her best friend stuck a hand out to Kane, who grinned and pulled him in for a hug. 

“Take care of yourself, kid,” he said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Be sure to send us lots of pictures.” Wells smiled and nodded before moving on to hug Abby.

“Oh, I promised myself I wouldn’t cry,” she said tearfully, gripping him so tight Clarke could see her knuckles turn white. “You stay safe over there, okay? I’ll send you a care package at the end of the week, full of food and tiny American flags so you remember where you come from.” 

Wells laughed. “I thought for sure you’d give me some lecture about not eating too many pastries or something,” he quipped lightly. 

Abby returned his chuckle. “Of course not,” she smiled. “You’ll be in Paris! What is it you kids say? Live it up!” All three of the teenagers cringed involuntarily. 

“Ugh, _Mom_ ,” Clarke moaned embarrassedly. Her mother merely shrugged and gave Wells another quick embrace before he moved on to his father.

“I’ll see you in a few days,” Thelonious Jaha said firmly, gripping him tightly. “Once I finish up this conference, I’ll be on the very first flight over. We can show me around Paris.” He pulled back a bit and looked at his son seriously. “I love you son, and I am very proud of you. Every good thing coming your way, you’ve earned it. Ten times over.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Wells replied warmly and the two men embraced again. 

Clarke couldn’t help the tears falling from her cheeks when Wells finally reached her, and practically threw her arms around him. “I really, really wish you didn’t have to go,” she confessed. “Couldn’t you have done a little worse at school or something?”

Her best friend laughed. “I’m just remembering how we first became friends. You couldn’t stand the sarcastic prick in the back of the class, always sticking paperclips and bits of construction paper in your hair. Look at us now.”

She sniffed, and pulled back a bit to look at him. “I swear I’m still finding bits of glitter in my hair from the Sparkle Incident of ’02.”

“Ah yes, the classics,” he reminisced briefly. “We had some good times, didn’t we?”

Clarke felt her throat constrict. “And we’ll have more, you idiot,” she shot back, poking him in the shoulder. “It’s only a few years in Paris. Thankfully, we have this wonderful thing called _technology_ that’ll make it seem like you never left.”

“Oh, then we’re all sorted,” he grinned. 

Clarke looked at his face for a moment, trying to memorize her best friend’s features so she could compare them to whenever she saw him next. “I’ll miss you,” she said simply, her whole mental speech forgotten.

“I’ll miss you too,” he replied genuinely. “And I’ll be sure to call at the end of the week. You guys should be all settled in to Arkadia by then, right?”

She nodded. “We’re heading up tomorrow, so it’ll give us a few days to unpack and put everything away,” Clarke paused and looked at him seriously. “This isn’t goodbye.”

“Of course not,” Wells assured her. “I invested too much time in you to give up now.” They shared a grin before he eventually moved on to stand in front of the final person in their group.

“So,” Raven started nonchalantly, wringing her hands anxiously. “You’re finally leaving.”

Wells seemed to consider her for a moment, as if not quite sure whether or not her sadness was genuine. Despite the near-constant sarcastic jabs they threw at each other, Clarke knew that the two of them cared about each other deeply underneath all the teasing and witty remarks. But after years of pulling practical jokes on one another, she couldn’t blame Wells for looking like Raven’s concern could be a trap.

“Don’t get too excited,” he said cautiously. “I know you think all your dreams are coming true right now, but I’m coming back. Just give it a few months, and I’ll be back to sort out whatever trouble you’ve gotten Clarke in by then.”

Raven surprised them all by kissing his cheek and pulling him in for a tight hug. “Oh, just shut up,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “Despite all the crap we give each other, you’re one of my closest friends. I’ll miss you, doofus.”

To his credit, Wells was able to bounce back after a moment. “I’m getting some mixed signals here,” he quipped. “Are you saying you’ll miss me? Who are you, and what have you done with the real Raven Reyes?”

She smacked a hand against the back of his head before letting him go. “What did I just say about shutting up?” 

“Sorry,” Wells replied instantly, sticking out his tongue at her. 

Raven rolled her eyes, but looked at him seriously after a moment. “Take care of yourself, Jaha.”

There was a beat. “I will,” Wells replied genuinely. After they pulled apart, he looked back at the assembled group and gave a small, awkward wave. 

“I don’t really know how to say a collective goodbye,” he admitted sheepishly. “So, I’m just going to go now.” Wells pointed backwards towards the ticket gate. 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’m not going to miss stuff like _that_ ,” she chuckled. 

Raven waved her hand. “Get your corny ass on the plane, Jaha.” The three adults whipped their heads her way, and she sighed. “What I meant was, get your corny _ass_ on the plane, Wells,” she said a bit more forcefully, and shrugged at their raised eyebrows. “What? My dad isn’t here; I can cuss all I want.” Abby snorted and shook her head amusedly. 

Wells looked at them all standing there for a moment, a hesitant expression on his face. Clarke knew instantly that he was making sure to remember this moment, since it was likely the last time he would be in the country for several months. The Jahas had already decided to visit Wells in France for the holidays, since it was likely to be far more fun overseas than in Shadow Valley. As the announcer over the intercom announced the last call for boarding, Wells gave them all a final wave and turned on his heel to head towards the gate. Clarke’s heart plummeted as she watched him go; the very first friend she had ever made. After a few moments, his form disappeared around the corner of the doorframe and they all began moving back towards the airport’s parking lot. 

Raven put her arm over Clarke’s shoulders as they walked. “It’ll be okay,” she said soothingly. Her friend knew how long she had been dreading today. “It’s not like he’s going away forever. We’ll see him again during the summer.”

“I know,” Clarke sighed. “Still, it’s the end of an era. No more Wells around.”

“Thank g-“ Raven started humorously at Clarke’s chastising expression. “I mean, yeah. Totally the end of an era. What a shame.” 

They smiled together as the group stepped on the escalator that led down into the parking garage. The ride home, Clarke thought about how they were coming up on a pretty big milestone in their lives. Going to college and starting their adult lives was going to be a challenge, but a necessary one. She was nervous and a bit anxious to get started, but Clarke understood that it was something that everyone had to go through at some point; growing up. With Raven there as her friend and with the new ones she hoped to make along the way, Clarke knew that everything would be okay in the end.

_____________________________________________________

Arkadia University was located a small distance from the heart of the Polis metropolitan area, a city bustling with life and filled with people from all over the country. While not quite as large as New York City, Polis was still one of the most populous cities in the country and the economic center for many important industries. Thanks to the city’s business laws, many companies were flocking to the area, bringing with them a wave of aspiring professionals. It was great news for the local economy as well as universities like Arkadia, who could connect graduates with some of the local businesses that needed educated workers. 

The school itself was one of the most well-funded and prestigious universities in the country, with an enormous campus spread out over six thousand acres of land. Nearly every conceivable field of study was represented at Arkadia, from common ones like law and business, to obscure ones like oceanography and farrier science. The school boasted large facilities for all its departments, which stood as imposing monuments to its esteemed reputation. Many first-time visitors were impressed by the intricate layout of the campus, the sheer volume of the various studies, and the quality of the teaching staff. The professors, both tenured and adjunct, were among the leading experts in each of their respective fields and were generally well-respected by the student body. 

Arkadia University had twenty different dorm halls, each of which were named after donors to the school or, in the original three dorms, after some aspect of the first few majors that the school provided. The university had purchased some of the nearby housing developments a few decades prior and converted them to dorm halls for their increasing number of on-campus students. Clarke and Raven had managed to get their roommate request in ahead of schedule, so they were able to obtain a decent room in one of the halls closest to the buildings that housed their classes for the fall. 

Since it was only a few hours away from Shadow Valley, both Clarke and Raven had said goodbye to their families before they left and drove up to Polis using their own cars. Although it was encouraged for freshman to leave their cars at home and take the shuttle everywhere, both girls knew that they would likely need them to get around the city and make trips home. Abby had insisted that Clarke call her once they had set up their dorm room, and to send pictures of their shared living space. To save money, they decided to get a triple occupancy room, with three individual rooms connected by a shared living room and a kitchen. 

When Clarke opened the door to their new home, both she and Raven gasped.

Dozens of boxes, both opened and unopened, lay scattered across the shared living space. Clothes were piled haphazardly on the university-provided furniture and several cabinet doors were open, although Clarke thought the open window and the cracked door to the fridge were the largest offenses. 

“It looks like a tornado came through here,” Raven mused, setting the first of her bags down near the door. 

A thought hit Clarke as the turned on the lights. “It could be our new roommate, Octavia Blake. Have you heard from her?” Raven shook her head, surveying the mess.

The university provided the occupants of a shared dorm room the contact information of each roommate so they could coordinate their moves on arrival. Under ideal circumstances, it provided freshman the opportunity to connect with the people they would be living with their first year and get some of the initial awkwardness out of the way. Up until this morning, and despite several attempts to contact her over the past month, neither Clarke or Raven had heard anything back from their new roommate. 

“We need to move some of this stuff around if we’re going to get our boxes in here,” Clarke reasoned. “Once we have everything moved in from our cars, we can take it to our individual rooms and unpack. Our new roomie will just have to deal with us touching her stuff.” 

Raven grinned. “Off to a great start making friends, I see,” she chuckled. 

“Oh, don’t give me that, Rae,” Clarke replied tartly, grabbing an armful of clothes from the couch and laying them on top of an open box. “She’s the one who didn’t respond to us. We tried to connect with her.”

“I even tried to stalk her on social media but I couldn’t find anything,” Raven admitted, closing the kitchen cabinets. “With a name like Octavia, you’d think she’d be easy to find, but I got nothing. What kind of person doesn’t have a social media account these days?”

“The same kind of person who doesn’t check their emails, apparently,” Clarke responded, heaving some of the boxes to the corner. “Maybe she doesn’t like us.”

“How?” Raven asked incredulously. “We haven’t even met yet! Besides, what’s not to like?” She posed impressively, making Clarke snort. “We’re awesome.”

“Well, it’s good to know you didn’t forget to pack your humility, Raven,” she chuckled. 

“Good to know you didn’t forget to pack your dad jokes, Clarke,” her friend shot back, heaving the last of the boxes. “Okay, that should do it. Let’s go back out and get the rest so we can finally unpack.” It had been a long past few days of packing up their stuff and cramming it all into their cars. Both girls were eager for the whole move to be over.

It took them another forty-five minutes to get everything, in between dodging other freshman and getting caught up in random conversations with their surrounding neighbors. Their hall, which was located on the ground floor of Constitution Hall, had twelve overall dorm rooms, which were managed by an on-site resident assistant. Their RA, an upperclassmen named Roan, was a burly man with a resting angry face. Despite his sour outward appearance, both girls thought he was relatively nice and seemed earnest in his efforts to assist the incoming students. The last time they saw him, he was helping heave a large television into one of the rooms down the hall. RAs moved in a full week earlier than most students so they were able to devote their full attention to helping their hallmates. 

After moving in the last box, both Clarke and Raven were exhausted. They managed to divide up their stuff and sequester it into their individual rooms before collapsing on the couch. 

“How do military kids do this every few years?” Raven asked, wiping sweat from her forehead.

“I’m guessing the mandatory set of orders from the government makes the choice relatively simple,” Clarke replied, checking her phone for the time. “Hey, do you want to take a break? We can always unpack our stuff later. Let’s get out there and meet some people.”

Raven looked at her in surprise. “Clarke Griffin, wanting to intentionally go out and make new friends?” she eyed her suspiciously. “Who even _are_ you?”

Clarke rolled her eyes and got up, pulling on her friend’s intentionally limp hands. “Look, I’m trying to branch out a little. I promised Wells that I would try to make some new friends while I was here, and all the research said the best time to start was on moving day.”

“You actually researched how to make friends?” Raven asked, looking sympathetic. “Oh, honey.”

Her cheeks turned a slight shade of red. “Hey, don’t give me that,” Clarke snapped defensively. “You know me. I’m really good at making acquaintances, but I suck at making solid friends. Present company excluded.”

Raven thought for a moment. “To be fair, it did take our boyfriend cheating on us to become friends. It’s not like we can just copy that formula for everyone here.”

Clarke shook her head with a smile. “My point exactly. I’m hoping to avoid any ridiculousness, so I need you,” she pulled on Raven’s hands again and the girl reluctantly got up from the comfortable couch, “to help me. Please.”

Her friend sighed, but followed her towards the door. “Fine. But we’re getting a pizza later and you’re buying.”

“We have a hall meeting later,” Clarke reminded her. “Pizza will be there already, it said so on the welcome packet.”

“Thank god,” Raven breathed, lifting her head up to the ceiling dramatically. “I could kiss Roan right now,” Clarke waggled her eyebrows over her shoulder suggestively. “Shut up, Clarke.” 

The door across the hall was already open, and the sounds of people moving around inside prompted the two of them to tentatively knock on the doorframe. 

“Hello?” Clarke called out. 

Three heads popped up from behind the kitchen counter, which blocked a third of the living room from the standpoint of the door. The first person, an athletic-looking girl with blonde hair and a kindly face smiled and beckoned them inside. 

“Hi!” she said warmly. “Come on in, sorry about the mess.” In truth, it was much less chaotic than their own room had been an hour before. A couple boxes were lying on the couch and various dishes were strewn about on the kitchen counters, but it looked relatively clean. They were a bit further along in their unpacking, so Clarke figured they must have arrived a little before they did. 

The second person, a thin guy with shaggy dark brown hair and who was wearing a pair of goggles on his forehead, looked slightly affronted. 

“Hey!” he exclaimed. “This place was a warzone before Monty and I arrived. You’re lucky to have our expert expertise.” 

The third individual, who Clarke assumed was the aforementioned Monty, shook his head disparagingly. “”Expert expertise’?” he repeated. “Come on, Jasper. You make us sound like hacks. We’re professionals, you mean.”

The previous boy, Jasper, put his hands on his hips. “That’s what I meant. Don’t get uppity with me; remember who got us here way before everyone else this morning.”

Monty sighed and ducked back down behind the counter. “Going ninety-five in a fifty-five isn’t something to be proud of, you know. You could have gotten us arrested.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jasper waved him off, and stepped forward to offer his hand to a bemused Clarke and Raven. “Don’t mind him. I’m Jasper Jordan, that’s Monty Green, and our illustrious host is Harper McIntyre.” The blonde girl looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but returned to offer a hand to them. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said genuinely. “Sorry about these two; we’ve been friends since elementary school and they happened to be living in a two-person studio directly above us. Instead of letting me unpack in peace, they decided to come pester me.” Even though her words were sharp, Clarke could tell the three of them all cared about each other deeply. 

Monty popped his head back up. “Hey, we’re only helping you with your TV. You said yourself you didn’t know how to set it up.” Harper only sighed exasperatedly in response. 

Raven grinned, and Clarke knew instantly that her friend liked them. “I’m Raven Reyes, and this is Clarke Griffin,” she gave a small wave, “Do you need any help with that? I’m an engineering major.”

That seemed to interest Monty. “Really? Me too!” he exclaimed excitedly. “I’ve been trying to find some of us among the incoming students, but no dice so far. What’s your concentration?” he asked. 

“Robotics engineering,” she replied. “You?”

“Biological engineering,” Monty said with a grin, “Jasper and I…shall we say, operated a farm of sorts for a bit. That kind of got my interest going.”

“See, when he says ‘farm’-” Jasper started, but Harper interrupted him.

“I think she gets it, Jasper,” she said coolly. Clarke noticed that the girl seemed a little tense and followed her gaze to where Raven and Monty were talking animatedly about their upcoming classes. 

Instantly, Clarke realized that Harper must either already be in a relationship with him or she was definitely crushing hard. A quick look at Jasper told her that she was probably right about the latter; he caught her eye at raised an eyebrow pointedly between them.

“So, Harper,” she asked, trying to divert her attention. “What are you studying?”

It took a second for her to disengage, but Harper quickly returned to her warm self as she explained, “Criminal justice. Both my parents were in the military and later police, so I guess you could say it runs in the family. I’m doing the ROTC program, so thankfully most of the tuition is covered and I can graduate as a commissioned officer in the Army after four years.”

“Wow,” Clarke replied, genuinely impressed. “You seem to have everything already planned out.”

Harper shrugged, but looked pleased at the compliment. “It’s what happens when you’re raised by a couple of uber-planners. You know what my dad told me to do when I was eighteen? Make a ten-year plan.”

Jasper snorted. “Yeah, and do you know what they gave her for her birthday? A luggage set.” 

Clarke stifled a giggle. “They didn’t,” she grinned. 

Harper glared at Jasper, but sighed and smiled slightly. “That’s my family. They believe in things being useful, even if they’re not always fun. A little eccentric, yeah, but everything I own has a purpose. That made moving a lot easier, unlike some people.” She nodded towards the kitchen counter. 

Monty popped his head up again from where he and Raven were now working on the TV. “Hey, we just like our stuff,” he argued.

“Yeah,” Jasper agreed. “We’re sentimental like that. Why do you think we’re still friends with you?” He stuck out his tongue.

Harper stuck out hers in return; it was obvious they all had a long history of being friends together. “So what about you, Clarke?” she asked. “What’s your major?”

“I’m doing the pre-med program,” Clarke responded, mentally scrolling through the list of her freshman classes. “Once I’m done with that, I’ll go to medical school and then attend my residency. I’m taking some art classes on the side during my undergrad though.”

“Ooh, you’re an artist?” asked Harper. “I’ve always wanted to learn, but I can’t seem to do anything but stick figures. What kind of stuff do you usually do?”

“Mostly sketching, but I love to paint as well,” answered Clarke. “It’s something I wish I could do as a career, but unfortunately there’s not a lot of demand for artists right now.”

“I hear that,” Jasper sighed mournfully. “No one appreciates what it takes to make a real masterpiece. It’s a damn shame.”

Harper leaned in to whisper in Clarke’s ear. “They used to spray-paint the walls of our high school. They were really good, up until the time they got caught spray-painting a dick on the principal’s Porsche. That didn’t end well.”

It was all Clarke could to do keep a straight face while Jasper looked at them confusedly. “That’s…expressive,” she managed.

“That’s what I said,” Harper grinned. “They got suspended for a week and had to scrub it off, but I still say it’s the best work they’ve ever done. He was kind of a dick.” The two of them snickered.

“What?” Jasper asked. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, man,” Harper grinned and winked at her. “Just telling Clarke about the Lima Bean Debacle.”

Something passed over his face, causing it to appear slightly red. “As I stated multiple times before, _no one ever proved anything_.” Monty popped back up again only to roll his eyes before going back down. 

“Lima Bean Debacle?” Clarke mouthed to Harper, who smiled broadly. 

“Tell you later,” she promised, and the two of them laughed.

Clarke and Raven ended up spending the next four hours hanging out with the trio across the hall, completely spacing on the initial plan of going door-to-door. It was discovered that Harper had two other roommates, a couple of girls named Emori and Ontari. She seemed to like the former, but thought the latter was a little full of herself and, in her words, “a bit of a bitch”. Clarke decided by the end of their visit that she really liked hanging out with the three of them and that they seemed to like her and Raven as well. If everyone was a nice as them, she had no doubt that college would be a thoroughly enjoyable experience. 

“That was fun,” Raven said as they exited the room and made their way back to their own to prepare for the hall meeting. “They seem like nice people.”

“They do,” she agreed, glad that her friend felt the same way. “Did you see how Harper was looking at Monty the whole time? I think she was jealous of you.”

Raven looked surprised. “Of me?” she asked. “Why?”

Clarke sighed. “I think she has a crush on him. You’re an engineering major too, she might be thinking you’re going to steal him.”

Her friend looked appalled. “Yeah, that’s not happening. I like Monty, but just as a friend,” she said firmly. “Besides, I think we already agreed how we met shouldn’t be used as the standard for every friend we meet.”

Clarke looked back at her and laughed, pushing open their door to their room. “Agreed.” 

She must have opened it too quickly, because she heard a loud smack and the sound of someone yelping in pain. Panic shot through her, and both girls waited a moment before opening the door, hoping that whomever it was had gotten out of its path. They were greeted by the sight of an amused-looking girl with dark hair sitting on the kitchen counter while a similarly dark-haired man was doubled over and holding his nose. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Clarke apologized immediately, reaching to help him but was batted away.

“I’m fine,” the man said irritably. His voice was rough with pain, but she found for some reason that she quite liked the sound of it. 

Pushing all that aside for the moment, Clarke reached out again forcefully and ignored his attempts to wave her off. “No you’re not,” she argued. “I just slammed a door on your face. Let me see.”

“Unless you’re a doctor or something,” he shot back, still holding his nose, “Kindly fuck off.” 

“Okay, first of all, I’m just trying to help you, jackass,” Clarke retorted hotly. “Secondly, I was raised by a doctor, and I’m studying to become one myself. So I might know a little about what I’m talking about. Now, _let me see_.” 

She didn’t know why she was suddenly so frustrated with a person she was responsible for injuring, but Clarke was determined to at least fix her mistake. No matter how dickish the person was. The man grunted, but eventually stood up and removed his hands.

Clarke’s first thought was that he was unbelievably attractive. Like, unfairly so. 

He was tall with a lean, muscular build and olive-colored skin. He had thick dark brown hair with curls that made her long to run her hands through them and deep brown eyes that reminded her of the forest where she used to run as a child. Freckles dotted his face like constellations in the night sky, which almost screamed to be captured in her sketchbook. His jawline was as sharp as his gaze, which seemed to roam all over her like she was doing to him. Warmth spread in her chest at the sight of him checking her out, but Clarke was able to keep it from showing on her face as she slowly lifted her hands to examine his nose. 

She tilted his face by touching gently on his jaw, ignoring the way her heart suddenly sped up, and tentatively pressed on the top of his nose. When he hissed in pain, Clarke became aware of how close she was standing to him. Quickly stammering an apology, she moved back slightly and examined his face again. It really was a nice face, she decided, feeling a slight sting on her hip but ignoring it as she continued staring. 

Raven’s sudden cough startled her out of her reverie. “Is he okay?” she asked. 

Clarke swallowed thickly and ignored how the man continued to look at her steadily. “Yeah, he’s fine,” she answered. “No broken bones. Just don’t go walking into any more doors.” Her attempt at humor didn’t seem to faze him, but caused Raven to snort. 

The girl seemed equally as amused. “Yeah, nice going big brother,” she teased, earning her a withering glance from the aforementioned man. “Sorry about the mess earlier, by the way. I meant to clean up before I left, but someone needed my help.” She nodded over her shoulder. 

“I bought you groceries,” the man replied, annoyed. “How does that count as you helping me?”

She waved him off. “I helped you pick out some for yourself,” she grinned. The man simply sighed in exasperation while the girl stuck out a hand. 

“My name’s Octavia. You’ve already met my brother, Bellamy Blake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for the late chapter! It was a strange combination of its inherent difficulty and the amount of school I was doing. Since this installment introduced a lot of stuff at once, I wanted to get it just right. You guys have no idea how long I agonized over how I wanted Clarke and Bellamy to meet. There was a deleted draft that had them meet at a party a little later down the line, but I figured that I would at least have them have a first interaction in this chapter. You guys have waited long enough :) Don't worry, the next chapter will pick up right where we left off! I wanted to at least introduce him this chapter, and ending on a cliffhanger was too good to pass up (evil laughter).
> 
> I really appreciate you guys hanging with me as I write this monstrosity. As always, I hope you enjoy and stick around for the next part!


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